


Banishment

by tothevision



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Love, Love/Hate, Sexual Content, started writing before s3 aired so does not follow s3 canon (thank god), there is an actual plot tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:06:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 141,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothevision/pseuds/tothevision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Lexa's betrayal and the tragedy at Mount Weather, Clarke left her people, left civilization, but she's waiting for something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wanheda

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little fic I've been writing to pass the time until the new season begins. It's my way of coping! :)

She'd been walking for nine days and sleeping on the cold ground for eight nights before she ran into another human being. She drank from the river she followed, foraged for food along the ground, slept poorly through the night because it was too dangerous to light a fire and too dangerous to fall into a deep sleep of unawareness. She was bone weary with exhaustion, filthy, and yet she never once thought of turning back.

A couple times she'd heard some of the grounders hunting in the distance. She would double back and give them a wide berth. She didn't want to see another human face. She didn't even want to see her own when she knelt down by the river.

But it was inevitable that she would come across someone. The ninth day had been nothing but rain all morning. She was forced to stay beneath the brush where she had slept the night before to keep the brunt of it off of her. She liked the rain, but the damp clothes and cold would likely end up making her sick. Sick meant weak. Weak was something Clarke could never afford to be again. Weak was the girl who sketched dreams in charcoal on the floor of her cell on the Ark. Weak was the girl who would party hard after curfew and sometimes sneak into another bed. Weak was the girl who believed her mother infallible. Weak was the girl who found peace and safety in her father's arms.

Clarke wasn't weak anymore. Not when she stepped off the drop ship to see the blackened earth and the charred remains of those who had attacked them. Not when she squeezed the trigger to kill the sniper who had bombed TonDC. Not when she shot President Wallace just to prove a point. Not when she pulled that lever and murdered hundreds of men, women, and children.

No. She wasn't weak. She wasn't anything anymore. She was a faceless girl with no name wandering the woods.

The rain stopped by early afternoon and she ventured out again. She would have to start looking for a more permanent place to set up camp, somewhere dry and sheltered. She wasn't going to walk forever.

It might have been the rain that threw her off. The forest sounded different after a heavy rain. Creaking and groaning all around from the weight of the water. Maybe she was just too tired. Either way, she didn't pay close enough attention to her surroundings and that's why the arrow that whizzed past her nose and embedded itself in the tree next to her was a shock.

Clarke poised to run, but a girl stepped out from behind a thicket with a bow in her hands, another arrow already notched and leveled straight at her head.

She wasn't much older than Clarke, maybe twenty two. She had long black hair that hung down her back in a single braid. She wasn't wearing grounder armor or warrior paint, but she looked strong and very sure of herself. There was little doubt that arrow wouldn't find its target if Clarke played this wrong.

She asked her something harshly in _Trigedasleng_ , but Clarke didn't understand it.

"I'm sorry, I don't--"

" _Skaikru!_ " she exclaimed angrily and readjusted her aim with more purpose this time.

"I mean you no harm! I'm unarmed and alone!" Clarke said hurriedly, pulling her jacket open to show her lack of weapons and held her hands up in surrender.

She did, however, have a very large knife in her boot and a gun pressed against her back. She just didn't think she'd be faster than an arrow.

" _Mak! Hod op!_ "

Clarke's gaze shifted to see a teenage girl run toward them. She must have been hiding behind one of the trees. This one wasn't more than fourteen - frail looking and pale, not the picture of health that the older girl with the deadly weapon pointed at her was.

The older one barked something in _Trigedasleng_. Clarke was pretty sure she caught the words "dangerous" and "kill" which didn't exactly make this situation any better.

The young girl replied quickly with a shake of her head and stepped up to Clarke carefully. She was warned off, but ignored it. Clarke met her eyes squarely, not a threat, but strength.

"It's you, isn't it? The leader of the _Skaikru_?"

Clarke didn't know which answer would get her killed or let her live. Fortunately, she didn't have to reply.

" _Wanheda_."

Hundreds of dead bodies. Seemingly burned. Skin sloughed off. Eyes open and unseeing. The stench of rot in the air. A mountain turned into a hollow mass grave.

Clarke forced the images back, swallowing them down with bitterness she didn't think possible, and focused again on the young girl. Her skin was sallow, her hair stringy and flaxen, her face too sharp and angular for someone so young. All the Grounders had harsh lines of a body that had known days without nourishment, but she looked as though she'd gone through much more. There were angry red scars lashed across her wrists. The mark of a longtime captive.

The realization left her cold.

"You were one of the prisoners."

"I saw you..." she replied tentatively, "that night when we were released. You were standing in front of the Great Door with the Army behind you."

_'Lexa, please, don't do this.'_

Clarke shook her head to rid the sound from her ears, but the image wouldn't fade, and her chest seized with pain.

"News of what you did after we escaped has spread quickly. You're a legend. Destroyer of the Mountain. Keeper of the Sky. _Wanheda_."

"Does that mean I get to leave without an arrow in my chest?"

She waved behind her for Mak to lower the bow, speaking rapidly in their foreign tongue. After a few rounds, the older girl looked at Clarke in surprise.

“ _Nou get yu daun, Mak_ ,” the younger girl said softly.

Clarke recognized that. _Do not worry_ , she had said.

Mak looked at her again and after lingering a long moment, she made her decision to accept Clarke, and gave a firm nod. With that, she turned around and began to walk away.

"Come,” the younger one said. “We are hunting for our village's meal tonight. You will join us."

"I appreciate the invitation, but I'm just going to--"

"You must come with us. My family will want to thank you for what you did. It will be a great honor for us."

Clarke's face hardened along with her voice. "I'm not what you think I am."

She was unfazed. "You killed the _Maunon_. It is because of you that I stand here free. I know who you are. Now, come."

Clarke really didn't want to go, but she couldn't deny the deep rumbling of her stomach that ached for more than just a handful of nuts and berries. So she followed.

* * *

"My name is Litta."

"Clarke."

"Apologies for the misunderstanding before. My sister and I were hunting when we ran into you. There have been some thieves nearby these past few days, stealing hunters prizes for themselves, killing the hunters. We thought you might be one of them."

"I understand."

They walked alongside each other in silence. Clarke's boots stomped across the forest floor heavily while Litta seemed to glide across. Sticks and leaves were crushed beneath Clarke's feet, but Litta didn't even seem to touch them. She never broke a twig. She walked swiftly and with precision. Clarke was a clumsy oaf next to her.

The word kept echoing in her head. It wouldn't leave her alone.

“What you called me...” she swallowed hard, “what you called me before. What did that mean? What does... _Wan_ \--”

Mak reappeared in a flash. “ _Kamp raun hir. Dei trilipa-de_ ,” she said quietly before darting off again into the brush with her weapon held tight.

Litta smiled and turned to Clarke. "We should have a full belly tonight. She says there's a deer not too far off.” She waved in the direction Mak had disappeared. “My sister does not speak _gonasleng_ so you'll have to--"

"Why do you?" Clarke interrupted curiously. She was grateful for the interruption. Somehow, she didn't think she wanted to know the answer after all. "You're too young to be--"

Litta bristled. " _Gonas_ , warriors, start as soon as they are able. We all make our choices. Mak is one of our traders. She journeys to far away places in search of necessary supplies and barters with the other clans. My father is _gona_ as are my brothers and as am I. I have studied the Warriors language from birth. I was on a scouting mission with three others when we were captured by the Mountain Men. They managed to trap us after they used their poison air."

"How long were you in there?"

"Six moons.”

Clarke didn't understand at first, but then she recalled her Earth lessons and remembered that a full side of the moon was only visible once a month. In space, you don't really think of seeing things in two-dimensions when you live in 360.

Six moons meant six months. Six months in those cages, in that dungeon at the pit of the mountain, surrounded by people being dragged out, drained, and slaughtered every day. Every day for six months – half a year. How was this girl standing here right now?

“I was too small to be a good donor,” Litta went on to explain with the same grim expression. “They said they were going to wait until I was older to sacrifice me. My comrades did not meet the same fate."

"I'm sorry."

There was a loud thwack that came from the right of them, followed by an animal squealing and screeching for its life. Within seconds, the cries stopped and the woods were silent once more.

Litta shrugged. “All that came to pass, was meant to.”

Clarke wished she believed that.

“And it seems were _meant_ to feast well tonight,” the young girl added with a smile.

* * *

Litta had a pole strapped to her back and she pulled it free just as Mak appeared again with blood stained hands. She gestured for them to follow. Litta didn't hesitate and started jogging after her sister. Clarke caught up with them both and watched as they bound the dead deer's feet and strung it up on the pole. They carried it between them, the bar resting on their shoulders, and made their way back to their village. Clarke thought about offering to take Litta's place in carrying the animal, it looked like she might buckle under the weight of it any moment, but she knew enough about the Trigedakru way to know that such an offer would be considered a grave insult. So she just continued to walk alongside the sisters silently. They walked for about a half an hour before a small village came into view. It looked just like the last one she'd been to.

Did they really all look the same or was she being haunted by her past?

Dead bodies littered the ground. Finn stared at her with wet brown eyes, pleading.

_'I did it to save you.'_

_Wanheda._

"There will be many who wish to meet you."

Clarke wished she could say the same.


	2. Nomads

She stayed with that village for a little over four months. The villagers met her with apprehension and awe at first, but then the novelty wore off after about a week and Clarke wasn't the legend anymore. She was just an outsider they'd accepted.

She didn't do much with her time there. She tried to avoid people as much as possible, except for the family that took her in, and spent most of her time walking alone in the woods. Litta's father suffered from an old war wound in his leg that Clarke was actually able to help him with. She used scavenged herbs to alleviate the pain and remembered one of her mother's lessons about sometimes needing to re-break a bone to set it properly. He fared much better under Clarke's care and in return he offered what was most precious to him as a _gona_ : skill.

Clarke was wary at first, she didn't feel the need to wield a sword or ax as Octavia had lunged for. But it made sense that she should know more about how to protect herself than the gun she kept pressed against her back at all times. So with Litta, her brothers, and Litta's father, Clarke began to train.

After a while, the village started to feel too familiar.

The daily routine grew too easy.

The faces all had names.

So she left.

* * *

Mak taught her how to find her way, even giving Clarke some of the older, self made maps she used when she first started trading. She taught her what to look for and even suggested a few of the friendlier villages should Clarke find herself in need. The clans had been united for almost five years now and travel between them was wholly encouraged as was trade. It hadn't always been so free and prosperous. The coalition was forged under their newest Commander. The villagers often sung their _Heda's_ praises, but Clarke would simply excuse herself.

She knew all too well what the Commander had done for her people.

Clarke often kept to herself during her journey, though she had yet to pick a destination. She had a map now, she could choose, but instead she continued to wander. Sometimes she would meet up with a hunting party or a group that was traveling between the clans or nomads. Grounders, even nomadic ones, did not accept outsiders, but they could not turn away _Wanheda_. She would stay with them for a day or so before parting ways once more. She never wanted to be around anyone for too long. She never asked what it meant when they called her that.

Because she knew.

A while after she had stopped keeping track of the days, Clarke came upon another nomad herd. They were more sophisticated than the others she had encountered. They were well fed, cleaner than most, and were surprisingly jolly. It was their laughter she had heard before anything else. Laughter, joviality, even smiles, were in short supply on the ground. Clarke had almost forgotten what it sounded like before she came upon this particular group in the forest. She almost turned away from it, recoiling from the lightness they threatened to bring, but a part of her needed to know. She needed to know how they laughed.

They were Nomadic Tree People. Born into the Woods Clan, but had chosen to leave the safety and routine of village life, opting for the freer, but inherently more dangerous way of life as a nomad. They traveled between the twelve clans, owing loyalty to none of them. Nomads had been given a free pass no matter what the standing between the clans were – as long as they never took a side. For those who had no families, no loved ones, no warrior ties, the life of a nomad was appealing.

Clarke liked this group. They drank a lot. Ate a lot. Danced.

It was a far different experience than anything else she had found on the ground or on the Ark. These people were free. In constant danger? Yes. But they chose to live as though it didn't exist – live without fear. Survival was not their goal, instead they wished to live life, even if it meant it would be a shorter one.

It wasn't that they didn't take precautions or protect themselves. They did. Anyone who crossed them would be met with a violent and bloody end, but staying alive didn't mean as much to them as living did. Which is why they left their clans, such foolhardy notions were met with harsh consequences in the ways of the Grounders.

Clarke didn't really understand this group, but they gave her plenty of food and were very generous with their libations. So she stuck around.

There was something else that was different about this herd. They were a large group, setting up camp for several months at a time. Music was a part of their way of life. It wasn't like any music that Clarke had ever known, but after three long draws from their heavy glass jug, any beat was good enough. They also had a de-facto leader of a sort. None of the nomads she had encountered before allowed that.

Their leader was a woman who was barely thirty. Attractive with short dark hair that was intricately braided. She was small, smaller than Clarke. She sang and played this odd looking piece of wood with string laced across it. She seemed softer than any grounder Clarke had ever seen. She didn't have the same sharp angular lines on her face that all Grounders did. The sign of harsh living. Days without food being commonplace. This girl was so out of place with the rest of them and yet she was their epicenter.

At first, Clarke thought she was a traveling minstrel – like in the old Earth fairy tales. But she soon discovered this woman was considered much more important to the herd than that. She was their leader, healer, mediator, and offered guidance to any who asked. Clarke was skeptical, to say the least, but everyone she spoke to in the group held nothing but reverence for this woman. They believed she possessed a power that was described in legends – a soothsayer. She apparently held some kind of preternatural abilities, could read your thoughts, see the future, or maybe it was the past, Clarke didn't really pay attention beyond that. She was too drunk.

She did recall that there was supposedly one soothsayer born to each of the twelve clans and due to reincarnation, they had the experience of a thousand lives to help them guide others.

It was bullshit.

But the woman was hot and she had a good voice so Clarke didn't mind in the least listening to her sing and play at night while the glass jug made its rounds. Dancing was something she could do easily with enough supplication. She could forget.

On the third night she spent with these nomads, she was curious about all the whispers that were running through the camp. No one had said anything to her and she didn't really feel like asking – mostly just wanted to find that jug again, but the whispers had only grown more apparent by nightfall, and Clarke felt like she was really missing out on something obvious.

Someone handed her the jug and the curiosity vanished in a heartbeat as she chugged liquid that burned her throat and then dulled the pain. She sat with a smaller group around one of several fires lit that night in the camp. There were lookouts stationed and for these nomads, that was enough to make them feel safe. Clarke knew that more than half the people she was sitting with tonight would be dead in two month's time. They were already ghosts. The oddest thing was, they seemed to know that too. Yet the jokes went on, the laughter roared, the music played furiously and happily.

“Three days and you have yet to approach me,” a lilting voice teased from beside her.

Clarke turned to see the so-called "soothsayer" settle herself down on the grass close to her...very close.

“Sorry, was I supposed to follow some kiss the ring ritual?”

She took another long draw from the jug and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she handed it off to the man sitting on the other side of her.

“I'll pass anyway.”

Her eyes were growing heavy with the coming promise of oblivion.

“Not at all,” the woman said, “I just hoped you would come to me. There are many things we could discuss.”

“Not in a chatty mood these days, I gotta say.” She looked around, hoping the drink hadn't gone too far yet.

Wait...

She looked back at her with a furrowed brow. “You're speaking English.”

“Indeed.”

“Nomads don't speak _gonasleng_ ,” Clarke said warily, eyeing this woman with more scrutiny now.

“They do when their _nontus_ are determined to make you a warrior.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, he was quite disappointed in me.”

“Who are you?”

“Ford.”

“Ford?” Clarke echoed in disbelief and snorted – rather unattractively. “What are you, Lincoln's long lost cousin?”

She raised an eyebrow, confused, but Clarke didn't feel like explaining.

“Okay... _Ford_ , why don't you go back to those little songs of yours while I stay here and work on getting completely shitfaced?”

The jug was back in her hands and immediately on her lips.

Ford continued to watch her in amusement.

“What?” Clarke snapped in exasperation.

“Do you not wonder what it is people in camp have been talking about all day?”

“Nope.”

“Hm, I suppose it means little to someone of _Skaikru_ , but it is of surprise, if not also concern, for us.” She ran her fingers through the ends of Clarke's hair, twisting the strands lightly. Clarke swallowed thickly at the touch. She wanted to move away, no one should touch her, but there was something so strong and alluring about this woman. She couldn't have moved if she tried.

Ford looked up at her again. “The Commander has left _Polis_.”

Clarke's grip on the jug increased tenfold and her knuckles turned white.

_'May we meet again.'_

“The reports say that she has been hidden outside the capital for nearly two months. We only found out now because she has recently taken up camp nearby. It is all very odd.”

“Le...Lexa is here?” Clarke managed to choke out through gritted teeth.

Ford's smile never changed, nor did her amusement.

“Oh, yes. The whole camp is abuzz. _Heda_ has never left _Polis_ like this - not without the threat of war or business with the clans. And certainly never cloaked in such mystery. There are rumors about why, of course, but I will not confirm if they are correct."

"You mean _you_ know why?"

"Oh, yes," she answered as if it were obvious. "I dreamt of her the night she left the city. It's terribly sad. She's been lonely for such a long time and she's lived with much heartbreak... Yet, she has a strength the past Commanders did not. It does not surprise me that she has accomplished all that she has."

Ford was watching her very closely now, gauging her reaction, and while Clarke felt strange and uncomfortable under her gaze, she refused to give her any sign of the absolute chaos that was ringing rampant through her entire body. Mind, body, and soul.

Accepting that she wasn't going to get anything out of Clarke tonight, Ford sat back a little bit and mused, "She is camped about a mile north up the river now, if our scouts were correct. It is all very strange.”

Strange.

That wasn't the right word for it.

Clarke tilted the jug back as far as it would go.


	3. Up the River

It was her fifth night with this nomad herd and Clarke had no intention of leaving. Not that she was capable of leaving anyway. She'd been on a bender for two days, refusing to allow herself anywhere near being sober.

She had her back resting against a tree, a fire roared nearby while many of the men and women danced around her. Cries of “ _Drein daun!”_ echoed through the woods. They were happy. Clarke was drunk.

She managed to sneak off with a flask of her own now and she had just refilled it. Yes, she'd likely have someone coming by to chop off her fingers for stealing, but she didn't give a fuck. This was necessary. She drank some more of the swill. Despite drinking it for five days straight now, she still didn't have the courage to ask what the hell it was. It didn't really matter anyway. It did its job.

“You look a sight.”

Clarke groaned loudly. “Go away, Ford.”

“You do not mean that.”

“Yep. Do. Definitely do. Bye bye, now.” She waved her off.

Ford didn't seem to care and slid right into Clarke's lap.

“What the fu--!”

“Do you like listening to me sing, Clarke?”

“Get off me.”

“You don't mean that either.”

Clarke met her gaze with some reluctance. It was true. She didn't mind the closeness. It felt good to have her warm, soft body pressing against her like that. Loneliness was a powerful thing. And Clarke was very... _very_ drunk.

“May I?” Ford asked, gesturing for the flask.

Clarke inwardly recoiled at having to share, but figured she wouldn't have much trouble finding more. These people seemed to have a bottomless supply.

Ford took a quick sip and made a face, coughing as it went down. Clarke gave a barking kind of laugh before taking the flask back. She was about to drink again when Ford put her hand over the opening.

“I said you could have some, not all.” Clarke rolled her eyes and shook her off.

Instead, Ford took her face in her hands. Stroking Clarke's cheek softly with the pads of her thumbs.

“You are extraordinarily beautiful, _skai-gada._ ”

The heat in her belly from the drink was hard to ignore and her mind had been in a foggy haze of careless abandon for days now. Clarke wrapped her arms around Ford's waist, pulling her flush against her, and leaned in to meet her lips. It was base instinct above anything else. You have someone warm pressing against you, you crave solace, you act on it.

But Ford wasn't there.

Struggling in confusion, Clarke opened her eyes, blinking dumbly. Ford had pulled back far enough not to be kissed, but she was still there watching Clarke with that same knowing amusement she'd been doing since the day Clarke walked into the camp.

“I thought—weren't you--?” she stumbled over the words.

“You find me attractive, do you not?”

“Is this some twisted game of yours?” she spat.

“I'm attractive, Clarke,” she said matter of factly. “I have a keen mind. I sing. I dance. I was born with a great purpose. Do you think I lack in my choices for lovers?”

Clarke was too drunk to put together a coherent answer and instead just mumbled something indecipherable. Why was she being so persistent? All she wanted was nothing. To be nothing. But this woman kept coming right up to her face and forced her to _exist_ again. To _think_ . To _matter_. She hated it.

“I have had many lovers and I will have many more, but when they close their eyes, Clarke, they have always and will always see _me_.”

Ford continued to stroke her hair soothingly with a sad sort of smile on her lips.

“I shall never take someone who would have me in their arms while there is another in their heart.”

“I wasn't--” she tried to protest just because it was something that felt like she should deny, but both of them knew.

“Clarke.” She put her finger over her lips to gently silence her. “They told you, didn't they? That I can see what others cannot? Well, I see the person behind those eyes.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips over each eyelid before kissing her sweetly on her lips. “Running only works for so long.”

Then Ford was gone, the weight of her body lifted off Clarke's lap, and she was alone by the tree again with her flask watching the people dance heartily around her.

* * *

  _'About a mile north up the river.'_

Clarke stumbled across the banks, splashing in the shallow water. She was making a ton of noise. Recklessly opening herself up to an attack by anyone with even half their wits about them, but she didn't care. She could have avoided steering into the water, but her sense of balance was nonexistent, she just kept veering off course without meaning to.

But anger fueled her enough to keep going. Booze helped even more. The moon had just risen so she was able to see well enough to at least keep herself from toppling headfirst into a river rock or a tree.

Ford's teasing and her knowing words had long since faded. Clarke had no split vision. There was only one she could see.

The moon wasn't bright enough, she thought, as she tripped over feet and went sprawling into a shallow pool of the river. Gasping, she climbed back out and shook off the cold water as best she could. She could feel sobriety slipping back in, her head clearing more and more with every step she took. She hadn't been this clear since joining the nomad herd.

Though that wasn't saying much...

“ _Ste daun weron yu ste kamp!_ ” a deep voice called out menacingly.

Clarke shook her head, trying to piece together the words.

_Stay where you are._

“I'm looking for Lexa.” She took a deep breath and made sure she spoke clearly. “ _Ai gaf chich yo heda op_.”

_I need to talk to your Commander._

She saw the blade before she saw the man, the edge glinting in the moonlight. He stepped out of the shadows, towering over her imposingly.

“No one sees the Commander.”

“I do.”

“And who are you?”

Clarke didn't miss a beat. “ _Wanheda_.”

That seemed to throw him.

“Where is she?” Clarke demanded, stepping up to him brazenly, ignoring the fact that his blade was pointed right at her throat. “Where's Lexa? Take me to her. _Now._ ”

Furious that this girl thought she could give him orders, he stepped forward threateningly, pressing the cold steel against Clarke's neck, daring her to move again.

“ _Chil yo daun!_ ” a voice cut through the night, strong and piercing.

Her heart was racing, beating against her ribcage so hard, she was sure it would bruise. She knew that voice.

The Grounder stepped back at once, lowering his blade, and Clarke saw her.

She wasn't wearing battle armor or her war paint. Just a simple dark dress, her hair plaited carefully, and a blanket around her shoulders. Clarke hadn't noticed before in her determination to find her, but there was the faint light of a fire just ahead. Things were kind of spinning a lot.

“Hello, Clarke.”

And that's when Clarke passed out.


	4. Waiting

Clarke woke to unfamiliar surroundings. It was warm. She was lying on something soft. The light was from torches, not just wild firelight in a pit. The walls were not canvas or skins as she had grown so accustomed to – they were uneven and sharp. Once her eyes focused, she realized they were rocks. She was surrounded by walls of solid rock. This was a cave.

She sat up quickly and instantly regretted it. The room swam and she heaved, but there was nothing left in her stomach. She felt like she was being turned inside out. What the hell did she let herself drink? She'd probably destroyed her liver and put herself in an even earlier grave.

_Way to go, Clarke._

Head in her hands, she tried to remember what happened. She remembered Ford playing with her hair, stomping through water, being threatened, and then...oh no...

Wildly, she reached around to her back and her pockets, trying to find her gun, only to remember that she had hidden her gun before joining the last nomad group. They wouldn't have accepted her if she was armed with such a weapon. Of course, in her drunken rage to go after Lexa, she hadn't recovered the gun.

But she had a dagger.

Clarke yanked it out of her boot and grasped the hilt tightly. Litta had given her the weapon. It was her first dagger that she received when she started training to be a warrior at age eight. It was both a parting gift and a warning to Clarke that she must always be able to defend herself. Clarke was ashamed to admit that she had not listened to the girl's advice because all she'd been doing was putting herself in danger without a care. Drinking away her sorrows and making herself such an easy target that it was actually astonishing that she was still alive at this point.

Dagger still in hand, Clarke surveyed her surroundings a little more carefully. Her head spun and everything seemed to be on an odd tilt, but that didn't matter. She was alone...for now.

There was water in a basin a few feet away and Clarke struggled to get to her feet before stumbling over to it. She grabbed the cup that was sitting next to it and dipped it in, filling it to the brim before bringing it to her lips. She did it again and again, trying to slake her thirst, and hydrate her screaming body.

She had to get out of here.

The entryway was wide open, only a slight ruffling of a canvas marred the view on the left side. There was a firepit that still burned brightly and the river lay behind it. There was no one there.

Clarke still wasn't herself, she could feel the alcohol weighing down on her, clouding her mind, making her movements heavy and clumsy, but she gripped the dagger so tightly that her knuckles were stark white. She held it at her side as she made her way out of the enclosure and suddenly a voice came that stopped her cold.

“You should rest.”

The rage consumed her whole. Those bodies...every single man, woman, and child of Mount Weather lying dead in that room. Burned alive from the inside out. Dead because of her.

In a flash, Clarke whirled around and threw herself at Lexa who was standing behind her. Clarke had no sense of balance or control so they both went crashing to the ground. While she had Lexa pinned beneath her, Clarke fumbled at first, but managed finally managed to get the blade against Lexa's throat.

This was it.

Lexa was on her back, utterly at Clarke's mercy, yet she didn't seem the least bit concerned about the situation. She laid there passively, those dark eyes trained on Clarke saying something that Clarke didn't want to hear. Wasn't ready to hear.

Frustrated by this complete disregard for the danger she was in, Clarke pressed the dagger harder against Lexa's throat, trying to get some kind of reaction out of her. She wanted fear. She wanted begging, pleas of mercy, something to make Lexa ask forgiveness for her crimes.

But she didn't get that. Instead, to Clarke's horrified disbelief, Lexa raised her head off the ground, pushing herself into Clarke's knife. Completely thrown, Clarke had to slacken her grip slightly otherwise Lexa would have drawn blood herself.

What was wrong with her? Why was she wavering now when she had the chance to do what she'd been thinking about for the last six months? Kill Lexa for her betrayal. Kill her for the people at Mount Weather who died because she abandoned her.

Now that moment was here and Lexa wasn't even fighting it. Instead, she was _taunting_ her. Lexa had pushed into the blade, daring Clarke to do it.

Did she think she wouldn't? Because she would!

Trying to recover her nerve, Clarke readjusted the dagger and pressed it again into Lexa's throat, enough to make an indent in her flesh, and expose the rapidly beating artery that pushed life blood through her body. One little slice and Clarke could sever that connection, to end this once and for all. She could stand back and watch the life drain out of Lexa. One ugly and violent death for the lives of hundreds. It seemed so insignificant, but for Clarke, it would have to be enough.

“If this is what you need for justice, Clarke, let it be done.”

Clarke tried not to look her in the eye, but it was inescapable. Lexa's calm but steely gaze locked onto her and she faltered again. It was if no time had passed. They were right back to the moment where they stood in front of the entrance to Mount Weather, _together_ , and then Clarke was alone...

“Make your choice. Do I live or do I die? Because I will not allow you this chance again.”

Why did she have to be this way? Why couldn't she just fight back like anyone else and make the choice for her?

A sickening feeling rose in Clarke's body that had nothing to do with alcohol. She blinked once, then twice, before finally removing the dagger in complete bewilderment.

What was she doing?

Scrambling away from Lexa and whatever the feeling was that made her lower the blade, Clarke unsteadily clawed her way to stand again, hunched over and breathing hard from the adrenaline of the encounter.

“You deserved it," she choked out.

Lexa slowly rose to her feet as well, never taking her eyes off Clarke.

“It seems you have decided that I did not.”

Furious.

Furious with herself for not doing what needed to be done.

Furious with Lexa for being so impassive and maddeningly self-righteous through it all.

Clarke's world was still on a tilt.

Refusing to answer, she threw the dagger on the ground, turned, and walked away.

“Where will you go now?”

Clarke didn't bother to answer.

She kept walking, but it was dark, the riverbed was uneven, and her step was unsure. Her foot gave way under a patch of shifting sand and she went down face first.

Her hands were raw and scraped against the stony ground and her wrists were sore from the impact, but she'd managed to avoid taking the full brunt on the fall. A shadow fell over her and the only thing that eclipsed her rage at that moment was her humiliation. Her cheeks burned while her stomach turned at such embroiled anger.

“You leave without exacting justice, you hesitate _once again_ to do what needs to be done, and now you wander off in this state of defenselessness. What are you trying to do, Clarke? Why did you come here?”

Lexa didn't touch her, didn't attempt to help her up; she just stood there and waited for Clarke to stand again.

Clarke stopped trying to get up for a moment and stared hard at the black sand beneath her, only the sound of her heavy breathing hung between them.

“Because you need to finish the job,” she said finally.

Clarke pushed herself off the ground with a grunt and wiped away the mud on her jeans. Finally allowing herself to face her, to look her in the eye, to tell her what she wanted to tell her from the second she knew she would have to pull the lever.

Lexa's eyes were wide, and even under the cloak of night, Clarke could see the pain behind them. She was glad.

“I made my choice because it's not your turn tonight. You left me to die, but I'm not dead yet. Finish the job, Commander, or you will be even weaker than the child who ran from a war.”

The words left Clarke's mouth with no connection to her mind. When she spoke them, it was the very first time she'd heard the words.

_Oh._

So that's what she'd been doing all these months.

_Waiting._

Maybe she should have drank more.


	5. Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Lexa's gaze hardened to stone. A look Clarke knew full well by now. It was imprinted on her very soul. The face that had broken her heart and turned away.

_'May we meet again.'_

“I understand your anger, Clarke, but I did what I had to do. I saved my people.”

“At the expense of mine.”

“That was the price.”

“You haven't finished paying it.”

She bristled, shoulders squaring off, back straighter. “I will not kill you, Clarke.”

“Why not? You did once before.”

Lexa said nothing, her jaw clenched tightly, but Clarke knew she had managed to cut her again. The sick sense of satisfaction in hurting Lexa pleased her. It felt good to hurt someone who knew what her pain was. Someone who had caused it. Someone who wasn't one of her own people that she wasn't allowed to be angry with and yet was. She had to kill so many... _so many_...just to save them.

But there was something very wrong about this. Standing by a river with no one nearby, no army camp, no chatter around them, no smoke choking the air. This was all terribly wrong.

The person standing before her wasn't the Commander soaked in blood, eyes painted black, weighted down by armor, walking away to leave her and her people to their death.

This was just a beautiful girl in a scrap of a dress, boots, her face shining and freshly scrubbed. Clarke didn't know how to reconcile the two stark visions. When did the Commander become so young? When did _Heda_ turn into Lexa? This was not what Clarke knew. This was not the person Clarke wanted to hate.

“What are you doing here?” she spat, somewhat disgusted with herself for needing to know. Lexa wasn't with her people, she was alone save for the one guard Clarke had encountered, and she wore no armor. These were not the actions of the Commander.

Lexa looked up the bank, along the trees, as if she could see something that Clarke could not, and then instead of replying, she simply walked past her.

Walking away.

Again.

“It never gets old for you, does it?”

The woman didn't stop.

“You're a coward, Lexa!”

“And you're a child, Clarke,” she said evenly, glancing back over her shoulder. “Come inside before those soaking clothes of yours make you ill.”

She disappeared into the entrance of the cave and Clarke could see now that it wasn't a cave so much as it was an opening buried in the hillside with large boulders jutting out above it. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to provide solid shelter.

Clarke had no idea what to make of it.

Lexa was supposed to be fighting her, not...whatever the hell she was doing!

Against her better judgment, Clarke went after her. She wasn't done by a long shot. Lexa would pay for what she did, one way or another.

“My clothes?” she said angrily as she stormed into the shelter. “You want my clothes, is that it?”

Lexa stood there impassively, her arms remained at her side in a picture of stillness. Yet, her back was ramrod straight and her chin was raised to show that she might be allowing Clarke to rage at her, but not walk over her.

Clarke didn't know what the hell was happening anymore. Lexa wasn't the Commander. The Commander wasn't fighting her. Clarke was still drunk. She still saw the bodies. She still felt rage. She still felt despair.

“Take them!” she spat and shrugged off her jacket, throwing it at Lexa as hard as she could.

Lexa just let it drop to the ground at her feet.

Clarke kicked off her boots next, flinging them far enough to bounce off the stone. She ripped off her soaking wet shirt and balled it up before tossing it at Lexa's face. This time Lexa raised her hands to catch the material before it hit her.

“What? Isn't this what you wanted from me?” She walked right into Lexa's personal space, staring her down. “You _wanted_ me,” she said in a dark whisper. Her voice had grown deeper, smoother. “You wanted my body...wanted me all to yourself, to claim me, to have me naked and kneeling before the great, powerful Commander.”

Lexa was breathing shallowly, but gave no other indication that Clarke's words had affected her.

“You wanted to bed me, Lexa,” she said with some heady mixture of bitterness and seduction. “Don't think I didn't notice how you looked at me. The way you touched me... Well, you didn't finish that job either!”

Clarke's hands went to her jeans, fumbling to unbutton them, but then strong hands covered hers, forcing her to still. She looked up and found herself staring into Lexa's eyes. Her breath caught, wholly unprepared for this closeness, for meeting her so intimately, to _feel_ her...

She stepped back suddenly so that Lexa couldn't reach her and realized then that she was actually half naked now and trembling. The anger that warmed her was only in her mind, her body was still reacting to the cool night.

“You are cold,” Lexa said, low and even. “Take the furs,” she gestured to her makeshift bed where there were several pelts, “and sit by the fire until you feel yourself again.”

_Herself?_

Clarke bit back a laugh.

“You took care of that too,” she said scornfully.

Instead of responding, Lexa gathered up the furs and brought them over to Clarke, pausing only for a moment before stepping close again and carefully put them around her shoulders. Clarke remained frozen where she stood, refusing to react to this care, refusing to acknowledge it, refusing to refuse it.

In the six months since she'd left Camp Jaha, Ford was the only person Clarke had any kind of intimate contact with. Now there was Lexa standing a mere foot away from her, her hands brushing the bare skin of Clarke's shoulder while she stood half naked in front of her. It was not the cold that made her shiver.

Lexa walked past her, back out into the night, and Clarke turned to watch her as she settled down beside the fire, feeding some more wood into it.

It did look awfully inviting at the moment. Being cold was a constant these past months and Clarke relished any moment she had to stave it off, but it never worked completely. Even when she would be so close to the fire that her skin burned, it didn't chase off the aching cold that lay deep in her bones.

So she followed. She sat across from Lexa, with the fire between them, and Lexa locked eyes with her for a moment before turning back to the flames.

“You want me to fight you, Clarke,” she said with the same even, patient tone she always had. “You wish to make me angry. To hurt me. I understand, but I will not give this to you. You know in your heart that I made the right choice.”

“Don't you dare try to tell me what I feel.”

Lexa watched the flames flicker, not meeting Clarke's burning gaze. “You blame me for the choices you made, but they were your choices, Clarke. Nothing will change that, no matter how hard you try.”

“You walked away from me.”

“To save my people.”

“You left us all to die.”

“You would have made the same choice I did. If faced with the same decision, you would have chosen your people. And you did face that choice – inside the mountain.”

Clarke tensed at that. Lexa raised her eyes slowly, meeting Clarke with the same intensity she had on the day they met. When Clarke walked in to meet the Commander sitting on her throne, to bargain for her people's lives, when she was responsible for the death of three hundred of Lexa's own.

“My scouts went inside, reported what they found. All of them dead. Men, women, and children – not just the soldiers. You chose to save your own and sacrificed the others. You paid a price – their lives for the lives of your people. It had to be done.”

“No, it _didn't_! It didn't _have_ to be that way!” Clarke insisted angrily. “You left! You left and _then_ I had no choice. They wouldn't have died if it wasn't for you!”

“I didn't kill them, Clarke.”

“You're right...you didn't,” she conceded harshly. “You left, so I did it. I killed them all. You abandoned me and I killed them all. Finish what you started, Lexa. I shouldn't have been...” she swallowed painfully, “I shouldn't be alive right now. I have no right to be.”

“You were strong--”

“I was _weak,_ ” Clarke cut her off. “Strong would have been to find another way. But I did the only thing I could think of at the time. It was wrong.”

“You saved your people.”

“I murdered hundreds more.”

“That is what it means to--”

“...to be a leader, yeah, Lexa, I remember your fucked up little lessons. Didn't exactly get me anywhere,” she said harshly.

“Your people live,” Lexa countered determinedly.

Clarke remained silent.

“ _You_ live,” she said softly.

Clarke looked up at her. “Doesn't feel like it.”

“The pain will subside.”

“What if I don't want it to?”

“Leaders don't get to make that choice.”

“No, we just make all the other ones.”

“Clarke, I--”

Lexa stopped herself and bit down her lip fiercely.

Clarke was curious, despite herself. She didn't want to care what Lexa had to say. But she did. She was sitting across the fire from her because she... _did_.

“What? What were you going to say?”

Lexa spoke so quietly, so gently, “I am glad...to see you _alive_.”

It cut through Clarke's heart. She didn't think there was one left before feeling that.

“Didn't seem to matter one bit to you when you walked away from me that night,” she muttered bitterly. “Even after I _begged_ you not to...”

Lexa inhaled sharply.

“I wasn't supposed to be just another ally to you,” Clarke said in a sudden moment of vulnerability. “I was... It was me, Lexa. _Me_. After we were...” she stopped herself, but what she was about to say still rang through the air.

Lexa clenched her jaw tightly as she stared into the fire. She spoke slowly and haltingly, “I would...give anything to--”

“Don't say it,” Clarke snapped. “You don't mean it.”

“Another life,” Lexa said with a sound of helplessness Clarke had never heard from her before. Helpless and _sad_. “Another time when I did not have to choose between you and my people. I would...I wish _so_ much for that,” she whispered.

“We're stuck in this one though.”

“We both live,” she offered.

“We seem to be good at that. Some people suck at it,” she huffed.

Lexa frowned at first, but then her lips twitched in bemusement, as if she might actually laugh. She didn't though.

“Yes, that is one way of putting it.”

Clarke sighed, rubbing her forehead. She didn't have any fight left in her now. She was cold and exhausted and still pretty drunk and Lexa was sitting across from her. It was all too much.

“I'm just...I'm so _tired_ , Lexa,” she admitted, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

“So sleep.”

She swallowed thickly. “Here?”

She nodded towards the shelter. “Your clothes will not dry for some time. You need to be warm.”

Clarke tugged the furs around her a little tighter.

“And you?”

“I will stay here.” She nodded towards the fire.

“What if I said no?”

“Then you will freeze to death,” Lexa answered, a hint of exasperation making its way through.

“I meant, what if I said no...to you staying out _here_?”

Lexa's head snapped up to meet her eyes and she watched Clarke for a long moment, seeming to take it all in, take what Clarke was asking, and then she allowed a slow, purposeful nod.

It was just the alcohol talking, it meant nothing. Clarke was just cold and the warmth from another body would help. At least...that's what she was telling herself.

She got to her feet, wobbling a little bit before regaining her balance, and made her way to the shelter without looking back. She knew Lexa would be following. It's why her heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest.

She clumsily pushed off her cold, soaked jeans, leaving her only in her underwear. She laid down carefully on the bed and pushed back so there was room enough for another. She was acutely aware that she was practically naked underneath the furs. Lexa took her time though and she didn't look at Clarke. She quietly gathered Clarke's clothes and laid them out flat where they would dry more quickly. There was something unnerving yet wonderful about watching Lexa do something so domestic and mundane as pick up after Clarke. She did it so easily.

Clarke watched silently as Lexa undid the rope that was holding the tarp at the entrance of the shelter bunched on the side and then dragged it closed. Finally, she extinguished the torches, leaving them wholly in darkness, and Clarke couldn't see her anymore. There was some shuffling of footsteps and then a hand grasping the edge of the furs to pull them back. Clarke held her breath as Lexa slid in beside her. There was still a space between them, not a single part of their bodies touched, but they might as well have been. Lexa's warmth radiated beneath the covers, the solid presence of her body next to Clarke was...a comfort she couldn't quite describe. It filled a part of her that she'd forgotten was empty.

“Sleep, Clarke,” Lexa said in the darkness.

So she did.

It was the first time since the Mountain that she didn't see them when she closed her eyes.

She dreamed of them though.


	6. Choices

The next morning, the space beside her was empty and her clothes had been carefully folded and laid out for her to dress. Clarke sat up and immediately vomited in a bucket that was conveniently near the cot. It looked as though someone had anticipated her needing it. She groaned. Her stomach was churning and her head felt like someone was doing a drum solo on the inside of her skull. She rinsed her mouth out with water from the nearby basin and then drank a little, despite her stomach's protestations. She splashed her face with the fresh, cold water and felt a little relief at that.

After dressing, she slowly made her way out of the tent and winced at the harsh sunlight that invaded her senses. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked around the rocky riverbank and found it empty. No Lexa. She checked the hill line in front of her and behind her. No sign of Lexa's bodyguard either.

Though the sun was up, the air was still chilled from the night before. The only sign of life that gave Clarke an indication that she had not been abandoned again was that there was a well tended fire still burning in the pit from last night. Someone would have had to stoke it and add more wood to start it again after it died out during the night. Normally that meant a person planned to return.

Clarke wasn't sure though.

She wasn't sure of anything.

She thought of the nomads she had left and wondered if maybe she could escape back to them. Forget she'd ever done this. Forget she'd ever seen Lexa. Forget everything they said last night. That group definitely had enough alcohol for it to be a possibility.

She heard a noise and turned around to see Lexa, still in the same simple black dress she wore last night except there was a worn, animal-skin jacket covering it now instead of a blanket. She carried a string of trout, presumably their breakfast, and smiled when she saw Clarke. It was small and it barely lasted a moment, but it _was_ a smile nonetheless.

She wasn't going back to the nomads.

“Hungry?”

One look at the fish and Clarke was sick again. She ran for the nearest bush for privacy. After waiting a while to be convinced that it was under control, she stumbled back onto her feet, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and took a deep breath before going to join Lexa who was sitting in front of the fire again. Clarke sat across from her, the same as they had last night, only there was no darkness to shroud them now. Lexa looked so different in the daylight. Clarke could only stare at her. She'd seen Lexa without her war paint before, but there had still been a thin layer of dirt and grime then. Now Lexa was clean, barefaced, beautiful, and unbearably young.

This was the monster she hated? The black painted face stained with fresh blood of slaughtered soldiers that seized away her last bit of hope, her lifeline, her chance to save her friends? Yes, she'd found a way in the end. But the moment Lexa turned her back on her was a moment where Clarke felt a tear in her soul. Lexa had ripped her apart and left her to die. But here she sat. Here they sat _together._

This beautiful young woman with braided hair tumbling freely over her shoulders, she didn't look any older than seventeen. How old was she anyway? Clarke had never thought to ask. Lexa had always seemed older than her before, but not now. Not like this. This wasn't the monster she hated. But that monster was just hiding for now. Clarke forced herself to remember that. Somewhere, lurking close beneath the surface, was the person who had betrayed her. The one who had left her to die.

Clarke made sure she didn't watch as Lexa expertly gutted the fish and put them on the spit to roast over the low flames. But once they started to cook, she felt a little more confident about the strength of her stomach.

Lexa never said a word during all of it, but there was something about her, the slight uptick at the corner of her mouth, the sly glances she sent Clarke's way, that showed her utter amusement at Clarke's current struggles.

She hated that Lexa was able to find anything about this funny, but there was a small part of her that was just simply _pleased_. Pleased that she was able to make Lexa smile.

This was so wrong.

“What are you doing here, Lexa?" she asked harshly. "Why aren't you in _Polis_? Where are your warriors? Your people? There was only that one guy and I haven't seen him since last night.”

For a long moment, Lexa didn't answer. She kept her eyes on the roasting fish. It was such a long, empty silence that Clarke actually wondered if she was going to try and pretend she didn't hear the question.

“You are not the only one angry with me for my choices,” she said softly.

This surprised Clarke.

“Your people? But...you _saved_ them. You got them all out and avoided a war, saved hundreds, just by leaving. How could they--?”

“The leaders of the clans have used this opportunity to claim I am too weak to hold command. They tell my people the same as you said to me last night: I am a coward. I ran from battle. I did not uphold my sworn oath of vengeance. _Jus drein jus daun_.”

She tilted her head as she inspected the roasting fish, turning them so they cooked evenly.

“My people – not all, of course, but enough – have been convinced to feel the same. To them, I allowed the Sky-People to fight our battle and allowed the Sky-People to have our rightful vengeance. That is... _unacceptable_.”

Clarke looked around them, realizing for the first time how alone they truly were. In all the time she had spent with Lexa, they had never been alone like this. There were always warriors or her people or danger surrounding them. The river babbled quietly beside them. The fire crackled and popped. The trees rustled with the wind. Birds called, echoing through the forest.

Lexa was alone.

“They kicked you out?” Clarke said aloud, not meaning to gawp the way she did, but it was just the absolute last thing in the world she had expected when she imagined them meeting again.

Lexa stiffened, but her face remained expressionless.

“Banished,” she said in a clipped tone, “pending preparations for my trial.”

“And then what?”

Lexa pulled the well cooked fish off the fire and set them down carefully to cool.

“Either I will win and prove myself worthy or I will die.”

“They'll execute you?” Clarke said in barely a whisper. “But...you're _the Commander._ You told me that it was your calling to lead...that it's your soul...”

That stopped her.

If Lexa was found unfit to lead, they couldn't let her live. They needed her to die so that her soul would be reborn in another body. They would most likely appoint a temporary leader until another _Heda_ , young and strong, rose to take the mantle of power once more.

Lexa had to prove herself worthy in the eyes of her people, her clansmen, her warriors, and the clan leaders. If not...there was no other option.

“Can you win?”

“I do not know.”

She handed Clarke a piece of the fish that had cooled enough for eating.

“Go on,” she said, “it will feel worse if you don't eat.”

Clarke numbly did as instructed and they ate in silence.


	7. Torn

Clarke excused herself to wash up by the river after they ate. She walked a ways up from Lexa's campsite, needing space to sort out her thoughts without having the Commander sitting right next to her, infusing every molecule in her body. Clarke took her time as she scrubbed her hands and face. It had grown warmer as the day went on so she pulled off her shirt and splashed water over her torso. She stayed like that for a little while, topless, crouched on a flat rock that was raised over the river as she let the cool, clear water run through her fingers. She stared down at her hand, watching without seeing anything at all. It wasn't water between her fingers, it was something slick, metallic, and it stained her.

By the time she made her way back, Lexa was no longer alone. There was the guard Clarke had encountered last night and a couple other Grounders standing behind him, looking particularly menacing. Lexa's face was hard as steel as he spoke. She didn't meet his eyes, only stared off at the edge of the hillside, nodding here and there to show that she was actually listening.

For some reason, the whole scene made Clarke's chest tighten with fear.

Whatever was happening, it wasn't good for Lexa.

She tried to shake that feeling and convince herself that it was simply concern for her own people. If Lexa was replaced, it was unlikely it would be by someone who would believe there was nothing to fear from the people of the Ark.

_'You may be heartless, Lexa, but at least you're smart.'_

How right she'd been...

Yes, that was it. If Lexa was killed, it all but guaranteed that some bloodthirsty general would take her place until they figured out the whole “reincarnation” thing – something Clarke was still very unclear on. Her people would be cut down in a moment's notice if the Grounders declared war. Especially while they were still recovering from Mount Weather.

It seemed that, once again, Clarke was faced with the challenge of needing Lexa for the greater good.

However devastating Lexa's betrayal was, it still proved that she put the safety and well-being of people first. She wouldn't, and didn't, wage a senseless war against the Sky People like most of the Grounders were vying to do.

As Clarke approached the men and Lexa, her heart continued to sink.

Would she never be free of this?

_'You were born for this, Clarke. Same as me.'_

How badly she wanted Lexa to be wrong.

* * *

 “What's going on?”

Lexa turned, her face still a stony mask. “It is time.”

“They expect us to return before mid-day, Commander. We must go quickly.”

Lexa gave a short nod of understanding, but it also contained a dismissal. The guard glared at Clarke suspiciously before stalking off with the other men into the brush. They would wait until Lexa summoned them again.

“You should return to the _Trigeda_ -Nomads. Ford will watch over you.”

Lexa walked towards the encampment with Clarke at her side.

“Ford? How do you... Wait, you knew where I was?” Clarke exclaimed. “Have you had people following me?”

“Stories of the _Fall of the Mountain_ have traveled quickly through the clans. You do not exactly blend in, Clarke,” she said dryly. “My scouts return with reports every day and almost all of them mentioned _Wanheda_.”

“Don't call me that.”

Lexa was searching through her things, setting some clothes and weapons aside.

“What are you going to do?”

“Face my clansmen, their leaders, give my testimony. They will demand a trial by combat if there is a warrior who believes they will be worthy of my replacement – until my spirit has chosen another and rises in their place.”

“Trial by combat? To the death?”

“Yes.”

Lexa pulled off her dress in one swift movement, leaving Clarke speechless as she stared at the Commander's nude form.

She had less scars than Clarke expected, but there were quite a few faded ones that marked her deeply and Clarke knew how bad the damage would have to have been to get them. Her fingers itched to reach out and trace each line, dig into each soft curve, explore every inch of that incredible body...

It was all but a moments glimpse that disappeared in an instant. She mourned the loss as quickly as it had come.

 _No_ , she reminded herself, _no, this is not what you want.  
_

_This is not who she is. Not truly._

Lexa didn't seem to notice Clarke's ogling as she dressed in the same armor that she had worn the day of their battle against Mount Weather. The short-lived battle.

“There may be many who believe they are worthy or perhaps there will only be a handful, I do not know.”

“What does that mean? You'll have to fight more than one person?”

“It is likely there will be dozens.”

Clarke couldn't wrap her head around this.

“They can't honestly expect you to fight and kill _dozens_ of warriors one after the other! How is that fair?”

“If I am meant to lead, I will be bestowed the strength to do so.”

“This is...they...the leaders of the clans,” Clarke stammered, “they just want you dead! This isn't a trial, Lexa, it's an execution.”

“I admit there is some likeness between the two. Do not worry, Clarke. Your people will get the justice they wish for my betrayal. But I go to my death with honor. I protected my people, I forged a coalition never achieved before. I was a good leader and my soul will be rewarded in the next life for my accomplishments.”

She sighed, sitting on the cot and bent down to lace up her boots.

Clarke didn't know what to say.

“Only...”

Lexa trailed off and Clarke watched her carefully.

Her voice was small with a hint of wavering, “I only wish that I had been given the time to do more. I could have...” She sighed. “I wish I had more time to cement the coalition and carry out more of my plans. I had envisioned great things for my people, a new dawn of a new age. The coalition was only the beginning. The plans I made with Anya...Gustus...Indra...”

Clarke's chest ached and she didn't know why. Lexa was getting what she deserved.

So why did this hurt so much?

Lexa finished lacing her boots and stood once more, now fully clothed in her battle armor. She buckled her sword belt around her waist and adjusted the scabbard.

“All things happen with reason. Perhaps I was not meant to complete this coalition. That task will be left to another life. And I suppose I was never meant to be with...”

She looked at Clarke with such a sense of profound loss, that Clarke wanted to take her in her arms and have them both run from here.

She understood every word that Lexa didn't say.

Lexa turned away and rummaged through some things before procuring some familiar objects. She sat down before a small looking glass and began to apply the black paint around her eyes with a fine brush.

“Give it to me.”

Lexa's head snapped up in surprise.

"I'll do it."

Lexa quickly resumed her expressionless demeanor and lowered her eyes as she gave a slow nod of agreement.

She held the brush and paint out almost reverentially, as if she was passing an object of great worth and ancient value into Clarke's hands. Clarke didn't know if it was, but she needed something to do with her hands. She wasn't just going to stand there and watch pathetically while Lexa put on her war paint.

When she took the tools and sat down next to her, Lexa faced her with some trepidation, but she kept her hands flat and steady on her knees as she waited rigidly. Clarke dipped the brush in paint before bringing it up to Lexa's eyes. She certainly knew what it was supposed to look like, she had looked into those black covered eyes every day for quite some time.

“You need to return to your people, Clarke. They will need you now more than ever.”

“You don't get to talk to me like that anymore," she said coldly. "You don't get to bestow your pseudo-intellectual teachings of leadership and survival while I blindly wobble after you like a newborn child. I listened to you before and I learned to never listen to you again.”

“I understand.”

They were quiet for a long moment before Clarke blew out a heavy breath, relenting, though she didn't have a single clue why.

“They don't need me.”

Lexa's gaze met hers. “You are the one they--”

“I don't _want_ to be,” Clarke cut her off quickly, still focused on her task with brush in hand, spreading the paint lightly around Lexa's eyes. “I can't. Never again.”

“People like us do not have such luxuries as choice.”

“I'm nothing like you.”

“Aren't you?”

Clarke was silent.

“Why are you still here, Clarke?”

“Because I'm not ready to leave.”

“They will return shortly for me. You cannot be here when they do.”

“What if I want to go with you?”

Lexa's eyes widened at that, but Clarke remained dispassionate, her brush strokes steady and even.

“I deserve to see justice, don't I? If you won't give me mine, then I should witness yours.”

Lexa looked like she might as well have just shot her, but the pain never showed anywhere except for a brief flash in her eyes. She composed herself and simply nodded.

Clarke finished the rest of the face painting in silence and Lexa did not meet her gaze again.

It hurt more than she could have imagined to see Lexa so defeated.


	8. Sacrifices

When the men came back, they bristled as Lexa told them that Clarke would be joining them. It seems that one of the terms of Lexa's banishment was that she was supposed to be alone, without the protection of her still loyal warriors and without any of her people.

Clarke managed to be the exception.

Still, the men were wary and before arriving to the village, Lexa ordered one of them to run ahead. It was strange how Lexa was practically a prisoner, all but bound in chains, yet she was still the Commander and they still followed her orders. They would follow her until death – theirs or hers.

Clarke didn't hear what Lexa had instructed, but the lieutenant soon returned with an oversized cloak for Clarke to wear. It would shield her from being recognized, especially by covering her blonde hair. She then ordered the men to separate and lead Clarke to the arena for the trial alone. That eased their concerns. This way they would be seen escorting Lexa by herself as they were told and they were still able to follow their Commander's orders.

It also seemed to ease Lexa's concern for Clarke.

“Don't let the clan leaders see you,” she said in a low enough whisper that their retinue couldn't hear. “I do not know what they will do, but there are several that still call for your death. They see you as a threat now more than ever because of what you and your people did in the Mountain. To them, Clarke, the Sky People are a dangerous anomaly. You make many people here uneasy. It would be safer to just eliminate a mysterious threat and you are their leader – whether you wish to be or not... _Wanheda_.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “I can take care of myself. I think I proved that well enough, don't you?”

Lexa ignored her and grasped Clarke's arm, pulling her to stop. Clarke yanked out of her grip in a violent flash.

“Don't touch me!”

“ _Gon we, ai na chich em op,_ ” Lexa said roughly to the men who nodded and spread out far enough to take posts that were out of earshot.

_Leave, I will speak to her alone._

“What?” Clarke said exasperatedly. “What do you want now? Why are you even talking about what _I'm_ going to do, Lexa? This trial is supposed to mean _you die_. Why aren't you focusing on that? Make some kind of plan to get out of it? Do you have a plan that you're just not telling me about?”

Lexa shook her head.

“Well...you still have time,” she insisted. “I know you have people loyal to you. Indra would never abandon you for a second. Why are you just _letting_ this happen?”

“There is nothing for me to do. If I do not have the respect of my people, of the clan leaders, then I have failed. The Commander is nothing without the respect of the people and I have lost that war. Nia, the Ice Nation Queen, has seen well to that. She's been planning my demise for quite some time, ever since Costia...”

The words stuck in Lexa's throat and she swallowed audibly, but Clarke was stubborn, she didn't allow a single pang of sympathy in at seeing Lexa's pain.

“This gave her a rare opportunity and she has used it well. Those loyal to me will only be greeted with death if they show that they follow me still. I will not have them needlessly die for me.”

“You once told me that we're supposed to look our people in the face and tell them 'go die for me'. What makes this any different?”

“Because it is only _me_ this time. Not for our people. Not for the greater good. Just me. They cannot win, so their deaths will have no meaning. Sacrifices must be made, Clarke, but only when it is for the sake of something larger than ourselves. I will not have them give their lives for a Commander who is already dead.”

“So that's it? You've just given up? Are you even going to fight or will you just lie down and let the first challenger cut your head off?” Clarke spat.

“I will fight with everything I have until I breathe my last,” Lexa said impassionedly, eyes flashing dangerously. “But that does not meant that I go into this unseeing. This is my end, Clarke, but it will not be _yours_.”

She tried not to let her bewilderment at Lexa's fierce concern for her show, but inside she was absolutely reeling.

Lexa's expression was grave and she didn't attempt to touch Clarke again, but she leaned in, trying to impress upon the seriousness of the matter. Clarke's heartbeat picked up at once to have Lexa so near.

“When it is over, you must leave at once. There will be great pandemonium. I do not know exactly what will happen, but I have seen similar circumstances before, and the mob has always lost control. Lives have been lost in the chaos. Do you hear me, Clarke? You must not hesitate. No matter what happens, you leave, you _run_. Go back to your people. Go back to the _Trigeda_ -Nomads. Just...” She stopped and took a deep breath to compose herself. “Just _live_.”

“Why are you acting like you're worried about me?” She scoffed, trying to be cold, but the conviction wasn't there. “You've more than shown me how disposable I am. Don't ruin this with lies when the only thing we still have between us is honesty.”

“I _am_ worried for you, Clarke! I care--” she insisted tersely, but cut herself off, shaking her head in frustration. “I understand that you do not wish to believe me or that you do not wish to hear me say it, but it was true, Clarke. It has always been true. It is _still_ true. When this is done, will you go?”

_'Not everyone. Not you.'_

The desperate plea behind her stern, strained, tone was hitting Clarke like a ton of bricks, but she didn't want Lexa to know that.

 _'No matter what happens.'_   Meaning, when Lexa was dead.

For all she had imagined this moment, planned it, dreamed of it...it was here at last and it left her hollow.

“Yeah, I'll go,” she mumbled, pulling away from Lexa, and started walking ahead of the escorts. Anything to put some kind of distance between them.

It didn't mean that she didn't still feel Lexa's presence burning behind her.


	9. Natrona

Clarke didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't this.

Hundreds of people were crowded into one dusty, dirt laden village. It wasn't _Polis_ , but they were apparently just outside the city walls. Clarke couldn't see the city through the thick forest that still lay between them, but the air smelled different and there was the loudest clamor of human noise in the distance that she had ever heard before. More people than the entire population of the Ark were milling around their city just a few miles away and Clarke still couldn't see them. Would she ever?

Lexa's invitation seemed to be the answer for her when they stood in front of the cavernous door to Mount Weather. She couldn't think of anything beyond that moment, beyond saving her people, staying alive, winning the war. But Lexa pulled her from that and forced her to think of a life after it all ended. It had given Clarke hope, some sense of lightness, even if only for a brief moment. Lexa knew that's what Clarke needed in that moment. Maybe she had needed it for herself too.

Then she ripped it all away.

 _That_ was the girl on trial today.

There was a podium erected before a cleared area that was just dry, hard, bare ground. Twelve chairs were placed in a row facing the clearing. Each chair had a symbol of the clan it belonged to. Right now only eleven were filled, the one in the middle was glaringly empty. Clarke recognized the Woods clan symbol etched above it.

Lexa was supposed to be sitting on that throne.

Instead, she was standing in the middle of a circle that had been formed by the people who gathered to watch. They were loud and raucous. No one was speaking out against Lexa, but no one was fighting for her either. Clarke was standing to Lexa's right. After Lexa's escorts had led her to the village alone, she pushed her way through the crowd and found a spot on the edge so that she could see and hear everything.

She recognized some of Lexa's higher up warriors standing near the podium. They wore masks of stone indifference, but Clarke could see the tension that rippled through every muscle they had. It was killing them to see Lexa like this. She searched the crowd for more familiar faces, but it was only those few.

An older woman stood from her chair and the crowd immediately fell silent. She was tall and had light brown hair that was braided intricately in an up-do that somewhat resembled a crown. She seemed to be in her early fifties, older than Abby, but not by much. It was not the person she pictured at all when Lexa mentioned a merciless Ice Queen who'd tortured and murdered her lover. This woman did not look dangerous, but Clarke knew from past experience that the most dangerous enemies are the ones you'd never suspect.

Nia addressed them in their foreign tongue before turning to Lexa, looking down at her from the podium. Lexa's back was ramrod straight, her chin raised, and her hands were tightly clasped in front of her. She met the older woman's gaze unflinchingly.

_“Ai laik Haimplana Nia kom Azgeda gon finga a Ahleksia kom Trigeda nau kos kwelen gon natrona.”_

Clarke didn't get much of it except that apparently this was the Ice Nation Queen, Nia, that Lexa spoke about. She also heard the words “weak” and “traitor”. It made her blood run cold. Lexa may have betrayed her, but now she stood accused of betraying her own people. They were trying her for a crime she didn't commit. A crime Clarke wished she had committed.

There was some kind of sick irony about this.

Nia kept talking, sometimes to Lexa, sometimes to the crowd. It seemed ceremonial from Clarke could tell with her minimal grasp of the language. Mostly she was just going on body language. While she had spent nearly a year around this new language, learning it had not been one of her priorities. It was something she regretted as she had no translator now, but wanted desperately to hear what the hell was happening. In her months with Litta and her family, she had picked up enough to get by, but "getting by" and trying to follow along with all these people were two very different things.

As loud as they had been earlier, the crowd was deathly silent now. They respected Lexa still and it appeared they respected Nia as well. Respected her or feared her, Clarke didn't know. There was always a fine line between the two.

Finally, Nia stopped speaking and she stared at Lexa as if she expected her to respond.

In fact, all of them were looking at Lexa now.

Clarke wondered if this was the testimony part that Lexa told her about. If it was...why wasn't Lexa talking?

A face appeared at the edge of the circle, far from Clarke, but she had been looking for her.

Indra was there, as always, poised and waiting just behind her Commander to do what needed to be done.

This time though, there wasn't anything to be done. Lexa lifted her chin and clenched her jaw, inhaling sharply as the Ice Queen called out again for her to speak.

Clarke stood by, watching this unfold in abject horror. Lexa wasn't going to testify. She wasn't even going to try to convince them to spare her.

One of the leaders on the far side of the podium, a woman, stood up abruptly and shouted at Lexa in _Trigedasleng_.

Lexa was unmoved.

The crowd began whispering wildly in disbelief to each other. They were just as shocked as the clan leaders to see Lexa stay silent.

A man with graying hair spoke out powerfully, but he was calmer than the woman. He remained seated and his hands grasped the arms of his chair. He seemed to be pleading with Lexa from what Clarke could tell.

Lexa was stone.

Finally, the clan leaders had no choice, they each nodded once as they went down the row. Nia watched as each one gave their vote before she turned back to the crowd. She had a practiced expression that was grave and serious, but Clarke felt like she might as well have been grinning from ear to ear.

Nia nodded and that must have been the final nail in the coffin because the crowd went into an uproar. Clarke didn't know if they were happy or upset about Lexa's condemnation, but she was getting shoved around a lot, and had to fight her way back to stay in the same spot. The roar was deafening, but when Clarke felt her adrenaline rising, the need to join them in their upset, she realized what was happening. It was the same thing she felt when Lexa gave her speech to the generals and lieutenants before they set out to take Mount Weather. Clarke's speech had been informative, Lexa's was inspiring. She ramped up their emotions, set their hearts pounding, their blood screaming, and had them roaring into battle.

Her people were now returning the favor as Lexa prepared to face her first challenger.

He stepped into the cleared arena, a massive, brute man with ugly scars all over his face, arms, chest. He was more scars than man. He carried what looked like a mini battering ram over his shoulder and a sword in his free hand. This was who they wanted to take Lexa's place? Even Clarke couldn't believe that.

But Nia waved him forward, signaling the start of the battle.

Lexa, who had been a near statue up to this point, drew both of her swords and settled into a defensive position. She never looked anywhere but the challenger in front of her.

_“Teik yo ogud na wan op, Heda.”_

_Prepare to die, Commander._

He bowed to her mockingly, but Lexa didn't rise to the bait. She waited for him to attack first.

He ran at her and they clashed fiercely. He was incredibly strong, but Lexa was faster. She was better. And soon he fell over dead at her feet. She yanked the bloody sword out of his body and collected the second one she had dropped during the fight.

Panting hard, she stormed around the circle with her swords raised in the air, stained with blood. There was a wild, animalistic look of violence in her eyes.

 _“Ai laik Heda, ai gonplei nou ste odon nowe!"_ she roared at the top of her lungs.

_I am the Commander, my fight is never over!_

The crowd was beside themselves in a heady roar of bloodlust. Clarke may have had doubts about who they were rooting for in the beginning, but Lexa certainly had them on her side now. Maybe they all knew she was going to die, maybe it was just a game, or maybe they actually believed that she would survive this and prove herself to be the true Commander by way of the old law.

Clarke was breathing heavily and her heart was hitting her rib cage so hard that it hurt. It wasn't until the warrior lay dead that she realized her entire body was tense with fear. She had to force herself to uncurl her fists and discovered that her nails had dug deep enough into her palms to draw blood.

She wasn't supposed to be scared. She wasn't supposed to feel sick with terror. This was justice.

So why did it feel like anything but?

Nia didn't seem concerned by the mob cheering on their _Heda_. The first challenger's body was dragged away and she waved in the next. The woman who stepped into the arena, at least, Clarke thought she was a woman, she might have been part wild boar and looked every bit as feral.

Lexa settled back into a defensive stance and waited again as the crowd screamed all around them.

Indra was still standing at the edge of the circle behind Lexa with her hand on the hilt of her sword. She was waiting for Lexa to give some kind of order, some kind of command that would allow her to intervene, but the longer this went on, Clarke could see that whatever Indra was hoping would come...wasn't going to happen.

Lexa truly intended to do this alone.

The look on Indra's face, when she finally realized that she was standing there to watch her Commander die, was a sound blow to Clarke's heart.

The second challenger was dropped as well, but not as easily, and she had managed to draw blood. Lexa didn't seem to notice because she hardly had time to breathe before the third stepped into the ring and ran straight at her.

One misstep. One glancing blow. One single solitary moment of wavering and Lexa would be dead. The crowd cheered her on like it was a game, but Clarke couldn't dispel the horror that she was watching Lexa slowly die before her eyes. Each challenger that approached was able to hurt her more and more. Lexa was winning her battles, but for how long? How many would she withstand before her strength gave out?

The fifth challenger was different. He was strong and tall, but he looked cleaner than the others. Less a soldier, more of a leader. His long braided hair fell free down his back. He carried a spear and a sword. It wasn't just his looks that made him different, but the way Lexa reacted to seeing him.

She didn't really know or care about the others, but she certainly knew this one. When Nia searched the crowd and laid eyes on him, she seemed to know him too. Her silent, beckoning nod made Clarke think that this was planned all along. He stepped out and Lexa, with exhaustion beginning to take its toll, as well as her wounds from the previous fights weakening her, allowed her shock to show with wide eyes of disbelief.

The crowd seemed to be shocked by his appearance too. They weren't cheering quite so loudly anymore and a deep grumbling rippled through the air. Who was this guy? Clarke had never seen him before and she thought that anyone of importance to Lexa's army would have been there at her side for Mount Weather.

Deciding that her need to know who this man was and what threat he posed to Lexa was more important than her need to avoid being recognized, Clarke shifted towards two women next to her who were deeply engrossed in conversation.

She held the hood of her cloak over her face as much as she could without appearing suspicious and asked, in carefully spoken _Trigadesleng_ , “Who is that?”

They answered in English, much to Clarke's relief.

“It's Roan, the Commander's second general.”

The second woman shook her head fiercely. “No longer! He was exiled for treason two seasons past. The Commander showed great mercy in allowing him to live.”

“Last we heard of him, he had sworn allegiance to the _Azgeda_.”

“He betrayed the Commander to the Ice Nation?” Clarke asked in disbelief.

“No one knows, really. The word was that he was a spy in _Azgeda_ territory, but when the Commander exiled him...”

“He must have betrayed her somehow! Why else would she cast him out?”

“The punishment for treason is death, not exile!” the other woman insisted.

They continued debating back and forth, but Clarke stepped away, letting their words fade out and blend in with the rest of the crowd's noise once again.

Whoever he was, Lexa clearly never expected him to be stepping into the arena.

The man, Roan apparently, bowed to Lexa with more reverence and respect than any of the previous challengers. Lexa's eyes were wild with anger and an even deeper shock of betrayal. She clenched her jaw tightly and bared her teeth as she paced side to side like a panther stalking its prey.

She had several cuts that showed dark stains of blood on her clothes as well as one on her cheek that bled openly. The rest of the blood on her was from the fallen challengers and she was soaked in it. She was limping slightly from the fourth opponent who had managed to throw her across the circle and she landed poorly on her left leg. Clarke knew she must have sprained something or was suffering deep bone bruise.

Roan looked back at Nia and she gave him a curt nod, waving him forward.

The panic bubbled up in her chest. They planned this! They had thrown the other warriors at Lexa to wear her down and then once she'd been weakened enough, he would step in and strike the final blow. Nia would have one of her people on the throne of the Woods clan, no matter how temporary it was intended, and then she would be in the perfect position to strike, to take the clans under her rule once and for all.

Was Lexa thinking the same? Did she know? Of course she did, she had to know.

“How dare you challenge me!” Lexa snarled and spat from her bloody mouth on the ground in front of her as if it was him lying there.

" _Ai don ge ban au, nau wan op, Heda,_ " he said with a sickening smirk.

_I was exiled, not dead, Commander._

“ _Natrona_!” Lexa shouted at him over the roar of the crowd.

It didn't seem to bother him. He simply smiled and raised his weapons.

“ _Yu gonplei ste odon._ ”

_Your fight is over._

_"Ai na ste yuj kos ai gonplei nou ste odon kom nau_ ,” Lexa replied solemnly, raising her swords as well.

_I will be strong for my fight is not yet over._

“I will not fall to _you_ , Roan.”

Lexa swung first this time.


	10. Death Is Not the End

Seeing the two warriors locked in such an evenly matched battle was destroying what little was left of Clarke's sanity. She didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to stand there, useless, waiting, helpless... She didn’t know how much time Lexa had left - very little by the looks of it.

Clarke had already stood idly by as Lexa fought and killed four people with what seemed to be an endless supply of challengers willing to come forward after the next.

Was she really going to just stay there until Lexa was dead on the ground? Is that what she wanted? Is that what she was willing to let happen? Even if she didn't...how could she stop it? They were battle hardened warriors and Clarke was going to...what? Jump in and have them talk about their feelings instead?

Whatever she was going to do, it would have to be soon. Lexa was starting to fade as Roan used her injuries to his advantage. He repeatedly forced Lexa to fall back and put weight on her bad leg, he kept putting pressure on the still profusely bleeding wounds on her back and right arm.

Lexa was slipping, her blows were less effective, her accuracy was weaker, and she wasn't able to defend herself as well as earlier so Roan was getting in some critical hits. She was pale and shaking, but the grim determination on her face never wavered.

The moment that Clarke had been dreading from the very start happened in a flash. Roan whirled around and caught Lexa from behind, driving his fist between her shoulder blades and sliced the back of her knees, forcing her legs to give way. Lexa landed on her stomach in the dirt with a small cry.

That was it. Clarke couldn't stand there for another second. In that moment, she didn't care what Lexa had done. She didn't care what happened at Mount Weather. All she saw was someone she cared about that was going to die. Clarke had lost too many people already, she wasn't ready to lose _her_.

She took two steps forward before powerful arms grabbed her from behind and lifted her in the air, pulling her away.

Away from _Lexa_.

Clarke struggled and shouted, but it was carried away on the roar of the mob around them.

“Stop,” a familiar voice said harshly from behind her. Clarke stopped struggling just from the shock of hearing who it was. “She does not want you to save her. She doesn't want any of us to save her.”

Indra was behind her, her arms wrapped around Clarke, immobilizing her in a fierce, but not painful hold.

“I don't care what she wants! This is stupid! She can't die like this!”

“She can and she will.”

“No!” Clarke shouted and started struggling anew, but Indra was too strong, she easily overpowered her. Helpless and desperate, Clarke cried out as she watched Roan circle Lexa who lay bruised and bloodied on the ground. He held his sword lazily over her body.

“Today marks the end of the twelve nations, Commander. I wanted you to know that. Queen Nia will take all that you held dear and raze it to the ground. _Polis_ will become a graveyard and the _Azgeda_ you so despise will rise from the deep to rule over all.”

He took a deep breath, raising his face to the sky with his eyes closed, relishing his victory. In a sudden movement, he violently snatched Lexa by her hair and raised her to her knees. She grunted in pain, but never cried out. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, Clarke could see her chest rise and fall with each short breath as she struggled to stay calm.

Clarke scratched and clawed and beat at Indra, but the woman's hold never slackened. Lexa was going to die and Clarke had waited too long.

“I have you to thank for all of this,” Roan said intimately against Lexa's ear. “If you had not united the clans, I would have only ruled _Trigeda_. Instead, I take my rightful place as Commander of the Twelve Nations. They will all kneel before me as I crush them into the dust of memories.” He chuckled. “You should not have sent me away, Commander. Let this be your last lesson in this life.”

He grasped Lexa's hair harder and yanked her back savagely to expose her throat. He looked to the Ice Queen for the final signal and she gave it with a solitary nod. Satisfied, Roan raised his spear, ready to plunge it into Lexa's back.

But just as he raised it above his shoulder, Lexa reached up and grasped the wrist that was holding her head. With a quick jerk outwardly, she snapped the bone, and he roared in pain. Enraged, he brought the spear down with all his strength, but Lexa was already rolling away. Instead of finding her back, the spear pierced her side and broke in half as she rolled over on it.

He reached for his blade, switching to his uninjured hand, but Lexa was too quick. She had risen to her knees with her sword already in hand and shoved it upwards into Roan's chest. He froze. So did the crowd. So did Clarke.

Slowly, Lexa managed to find her footing, despite the blade of his spear sticking out of her side. She pushed her sword deeper and deeper through him until she was nearly to the hilt. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open, but only a sickening gurgle came out as his lungs filled with blood.

Lexa's voice was deep and strong as she looked him in the eyes unflinchingly. “ _Ai gonplei...nou ste odon kom nau.”_

_My fight...is not yet over._

She yanked her blade out of him and he collapsed face first onto the ground.

The crowd thundered in a ferocious frenzy. They were absolutely beside themselves at Lexa's surprise victory. Clarke and Indra were being battered about as people were jumping and shoving, bellowing at the top of their lungs in the excitement.

Lexa turned her gaze up from the body of Roan to Nia, who sat there with an ugly, sour look on her face. This was not what she wanted. Clarke watched as she snapped her fingers and urged an _Azgeda_ foot soldier at the side of the podium to enter and challenge Lexa. Her plan may have been thwarted, but she wasn't going to give up by any means.

The solider nodded at the command and stepped forward. Lexa never spared him a glance, instead keeping her gaze heavy on Nia as she reached down and, with incredible difficulty, wrenched the spear out from her side. The pain, blood loss, and exhaustion was too much. Lexa fell to her knees again.

She would not survive the next fight.

 


	11. Truth

In the shock of seeing Lexa defeat Roan and the following tumult from the horde, Indra had dropped her arms. That was all she needed.

Clarke couldn't let this happen. She didn't know why. She didn't know what propelled her forward - only that she _had_ to.

Shoving her hood back, she ran straight into the arena, standing before Lexa who was crouched on her hands and knees as she tried, and failed, to get back to her feet.

“Enough!”

The crowd went silent upon seeing her. Clarke pulled the heavy cloak off and tossed it aside before setting her gaze on the people on the podium once more.

“You will step back at once. Interfering with a trial is a crime punishable by death,” one of the clan leaders ordered sternly.

Nia stared hard at Clarke and the realization of who she was hit her before any of the others. She sat back in her chair in a state of disbelief.

“I am Clarke of the Sky People. Your people have come to know me as _Wanheda_.”

There was such a clamor from the crowd that Clarke had to wait until they quieted down enough so that she could be heard again. Lexa grunted in pain behind her, but Clarke had to push that out of her mind. She couldn't think about how badly Lexa was injured, how she needed immediate medical attention, how she might die even if what Clarke intended to do worked.

“You have no position here, Clarke of the Sky People,” Nia said, seeming to regroup from the initial surprise. “ _Splitas_ cannot interfere--”

The older man with graying hair, that had pleaded with Lexa to give her testimony before, cut Nia off. “What is your purpose here?”

Clarke exhaled heavily, relieved that she was going to be given the chance to speak without more of a fight.

“I wish to give testimony in place of the Commander.”

“Such ignorance!” one of the female clan leaders cried. “No one can speak for the Commander and she refused her chance. Remove the girl!”

“Wait!” Clarke held her hands up pleadingly. “You don't understand! The crimes you have charged the Commander with are false! I know because I was there. It was all planned from the beginning. Lexa and I worked together to bring down Mount Weather. She _didn't_ abandon the Sky People.”

The best lies always start with the truth.

Clarke was about to discover just how good of a liar she really was.

Lexa reached up and grabbed Clarke's arm harshly, squeezing so tightly, Clarke was sure she would bruise. Lexa didn't say anything, but her eyes did.

_Don't do this._

Clarke shrugged her off and turned back to the clan leaders who were whispering rapidly amongst themselves.

It was already done.

“Go on,” the man with gray hair said carefully.

He was met with resistance from some of the other clan leaders, but not all. They spoke quietly together and Clarke could tell her side was winning out because Nia's face seemed to grow more and more pinched. Finally, they broke apart, and the man nodded for Clarke to continue.

Swallowing thickly, Clarke looked around the crowd, where all eyes were intently fixed on her now, before refocusing on the leaders at the podium.

This was Lexa's only chance. The soldier Nia had ordered forward was now standing in limbo, halfway between the podium and the arena. He looked impatient to act on his orders.

“She...she used the army as a distraction for me,” Clarke said, using the volume of her voice to gain confidence. “Once the Mountain Men thought the Grounders were gone, they lowered their defenses which allowed my people to get in. We needed them to believe there was no more threat.”

She turned to the crowd, looking to each side so as to address as many of them as possible.

“Lexa and I planned the battle _together_ to save our people and destroy Mount Weather. She wasn't _weak_. She is _not_ a coward. She is your _Heda_ and she is why you all stand here today: _alive_.”

She took a deep breath, letting the words flow as easily as if they were true.

“Alive because she was strong enough and smart enough to make the choice that would save _you_. She wasn't blindly fixated on who let the final blow fall, only that it would _fall_. Those are the actions of a great leader. One who protects her people at all costs.”

She faced the clan leaders again fiercely.

“And you're _murdering_ her for it!”

A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd. They believed her, she could feel it.

Lexa was breathing hard behind her.

In that moment of silence, between the sound of Lexa's pain, the rumbling of the people, and the clan leader's response...Clarke realized it.

She _had_ spoken the truth.

“You claim, Clarke of the Sky People, that Alexia's actions were done as part of the alliance with the Sky People and not breaking it? That she did not dishonor our people?” one of the men on the podium asked.

“I don't claim it, I'm telling you what happened. We planned it from the start. If they approached one of us with an attempt to break the alliance, we needed to play along. Any distraction to have them take their eyes off of one of us, then the other would break through. Our deception was necessary and hidden from both of our people so that there was no chance the ruse would be seen through. We couldn't take that risk.”

Nia leaned forward with some interest. “Had the _Maunon_ approached _Skaikru_ , you say _Skaikru_ would have severed the alliance instead?”

Clarke knew what she trying to do – manipulate her into saying that she was untrustworthy herself – but Clarke simply didn't care.

“The only people who know what happened that night are myself and the Commander. We made our choices and I stand by them. Lexa...”

Clarke exhaled harshly as tears pricked her eyes. She had known it all these months, all this time, and yet she could never bring herself to admit it. Blaming Lexa for her betrayal was far easier than admitting yet another terrible truth about herself.

“She did what I would have done in her place,” Clarke said with more strength than she thought herself capable of in that moment.

Her eyes fell closed as the image of Lexa that night appeared before her, dark and blood-stained. She heard her voice again, saying the words, _'I did what you would have done.'_

Clarke turned back to Lexa who was watching her in complete bewilderment, if not a bit of awe.

She nodded and her voice broke as she repeated it only for her this time. “I would have done the _same_.”

Lexa inhaled shakily and lowered her eyes before nodding once. She understood.

Clarke was apologizing. Not for her anger, but for admitting she would have left Lexa to die too.

And knowing that broke Clarke's heart. She would make the same choice again that she made in Mount Weather. She was the person who chose to wipe out an entire race of people to save her own. It wasn't a fluke, it wasn't some one-time mistake. She would shoot Dante Wallace again and she would pull that lever again. It was a part of who she was now and who she would forever be. Clarke couldn't run from this anymore than she could escape her own body.

That's why she wanted Lexa to kill her.

It was the only way for it to end. The other choice was to live with it and, for so long now, living with it had felt unbearable. Lexa knew that pain. It was another reason why Clarke went to her that night, leaving the safety and relative comfort she had with the nomads. She wanted someone who felt as she felt, to share her agony. Someone that was surviving it too.

“If this is true, why didn't the Commander explain when the accusation was made or utilize the time allotted for testimony?” another clan leader asked, bringing Clarke back to where she was.

In the middle of a bloody circle with hundreds of people watching her every movement. Probably dozens of warriors getting ready to pounce, throw a dagger at her, or launch an arrow. She couldn't think about that.

She opened her mouth to reply, but Lexa stood up beside her. Clarke wanted to reach out and help her, seeing how much pain Lexa was in with her teeth gritted and holding her side that seeped with blood from a gaping wound. But such action would be perceived as weakness. Lexa wouldn't appreciate any help that Clarke wanted to offer right now, so she balled her hands into fists and forced herself to keep her arms locked at her side.

“I am your leader, as is my right by our ancient and most sacred law.”

Lexa straightened her back as best she could.

“My choices are mine to make and mine to know. I have _never_ and will _never_ lower myself as to explain my reasons. I made the decision, it is not in your power, nor your right to question me. Clarke speaks out of turn today. She should not have done so because it was not her place, but since she has...I will say this to you now.”

She turned to the crowd, her voice thunderous and raw.

“Power hungry leaders wish to steal my rightful place as your Commander! They wish to destroy me because they know I will bring peace and prosperity for all our people! This is not what they want. This is not their way. They want to rule without justice, without honor, without strength, without goodness. They wish to take all that you have for themselves and leave nothing in their wake of destruction. They tried to kill me today, but here I stand while all the dead lay at my feet! By _my_ hand!”

They cheered and cried out for her, stomping their feet, clapping their hands, banging on whatever they could find to show Lexa that they heard her.

“These insidious shadows have placed doubt and corruption in your minds. I tell you to cast off all treacherous thoughts and feel safe in accepting me again as _Heda_. I am your leader, I will protect you, I will fight for you, I will avenge you, I will die for you, but the time for me to die is not now! And not like this! _Ai gonplei nou ste odon kom nau!”_

The cries erupted in a massive explosion, shouting and clamoring for Lexa.

Chants of “ _HEDA! HEDA! HEDA!_ ” filled the air in a deafening roar.

Lexa turned back to the clan leaders, back to Nia _,_ with a not-so-hidden smirk of victory.

_Your move._


	12. The Hard Part Is Over

Nia eyed the mob warily before turning back to Lexa. Suddenly, she rose from her chair and raised her voice to be heard through the din.

“The decision to put the Commander on trial was not made lightly and was with great reluctance. In this terrible time, we were but an instrument of law. The testimony brought to us by Clarke of the Sky People has, thankfully, shown us that our Commander is indeed one of honor and great strength."

She stepped off the podium and stood on the ground across the circle from Lexa.

“I, Queen Nia of the Ice Nation, pledge my fealty once again and forevermore to _Heda_ , and ask her merciful understanding of my actions done only as a rite required by our people's law."

Clarke watched her carefully as she lowered her eyes and bent at the waist, bowing deeply to Lexa.

Lexa raised her fist in the air, signaling something, Clarke didn't know what. Then, all of a sudden, the mob descended into chaos. They broke loose from the invisible barrier that contained the circle of the arena and swept over Clarke and Lexa and Nia like a wave breaking. Lexa was still holding her side as blood seeped between her fingers, but she paid it no mind as she interacted with her people.

Clarke was unceremoniously shoved back and Lexa disappeared from view, but then the people seemed to remember who she was. Chants of “ _Wanheda_!” filled the air next to Lexa's “ _Heda_!” and Clarke found herself surrounded by people cheering her on and thanking her.

A scream pierced the overwhelming commotion. It was entirely different from the joyous shouting of the people around her. Clarke raised herself on tip-toe to see what was happening, ignoring the shoving and shoulders knocking into her as people crowded in to pay homage to Lexa. She got the briefest glimpse of one of the clan leaders being yanked off their throne and tossed into the mob by a group of warriors. One of them was Lexa's man. The whole group was. She remembered them from Mount Weather. Nothing was more striking to memory than someone stained with blood.

That must have been what Lexa had signaled before. She told her still loyal soldiers to take out the clan leaders who had so openly opposed her. Would Nia be part of that same fate? Right now, Clarke couldn't see anything but dirty clothes and grimy faces as people rushed past her, trying to get to Lexa.

But Clarke needed to get Lexa out of there. She was still badly wounded and in dire need of medical care. There had to be healers in this village, but were they safely tucked away in one of the homes or were they part of the mob as well?

Clarke struggled, pushing past bodies, yelling at them to move, but it fell on deaf ears and solid walls of flesh.

A vaguely familiar face appeared next to her and she found herself being lifted into the air, thrown over the large man's shoulder.

“What the hell?" she exclaimed and thrashed around violently. "Put me down!”

It was one of Lexa's lieutenants and he was carrying her away from the center of the frenzy. Once Clarke realized that, she stopped fighting him, but it didn't mean she was any more pleased about being handled like a sack of goods. Once they reached the edge of the crowd, he put her down. Actually, it was more like he dropped her and she happened to land on her feet. Clarke shoved him away ungratefully and he rolled his eyes with a grunt. She wanted to ask him where Lexa was, but he turned around and left, running towards a group that had also just escaped the sea of bodies. It was Indra with a handful of warriors and one of them was cradling Lexa in his arms.

Clarke ran towards them as well, following them as they quickly passed through the streets of the village before entering a tent that was safely away from the raucous crowd. At first, one of the guards tried to block Clarke from entering, but Indra saw her and quickly ordered him to let her through.

Cautiously, she went in, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darker interior, and she saw a healer examining Lexa who was laid out on a table. The room was crowded with warriors, all on high alert. It seems they expected there to be some kind of retaliation – people who disagreed with Lexa remaining in command or loyalists who would soon discover the bodies of clan leaders trampled in the arena...

Clarke's head spun. She had just lied to _hundreds_ of people about Lexa's betrayal.

Was it the right thing? Would she regret this day? Would her people ever forgive her for forgiving Lexa?

Because that's what happened in that death circle today.

Forgiveness. Understanding. Need.

Lexa's pained grunt brought Clarke back to the matter at hand and she rushed to her side. This is what she needed to focus on now. The rest could be dealt with later.

“I'm fine, Clarke. You don't need to be here,” Lexa said through gritted teeth. “Y-you were supposed to go. You agreed that you would--”

“Shut up,” she said and grabbed a pair of shears from the healer's tools to cut open Lexa's shirt to access the wound.

It was _much_ worse than Clarke hoped it would be. She met the healer's eyes and knew he was thinking the same.

Lexa eyed the warriors around her who all shifted unsteadily and murmured disapproval at Clarke speaking to their Commander like that.

“Clarke, this is not the time--”

“I'm staying and I'm helping so lie down and stop talking so we can stop the bleeding.”

Rolling her eyes, Lexa grunted in pain as she lowered herself down on the table. The healer gathered a bunch of clean cloths and pressed them hard against the profusely bleeding area.

“My mother is a doctor, so I know how to dress wounds in the field, but this might need real surgery to repair,” Clarke murmured low to him. “Can you do it?”

He seemed uncertain which was the last thing in the world Clarke wanted to see.

“It's not that bad,” Lexa said through a clenched jaw.

“If we don't stop the bleeding, you're going to die in a few minutes. So I disagree,” she shot back heatedly.

“Just burn it,” she muttered halfheartedly, throwing her head back.

“That won't be enough.”

It wasn't a stab wound like Jasper's or even Finn's. The serrated edge of spear had ripped Lexa open - plunging in one side and out the other. Trying to cauterize this wound would cause such trauma to Lexa's body...she wouldn't survive it.

Clarke turned to the healer and spoke lowly, “If we only stitch the outer layer closed, she'll just keep bleeding into her body. It's...it's too deep.”

Nodding, the healer reached for his supplies, but Indra, who was standing on the other side of the table, interrupted him.

“ _F_ _i_ _s op em nau_!” she barked.

_Fix her now!_

The healer narrowed his eyes and they started arguing in their native tongue. Clarke ignored them and removed the cloth long enough to get a better look at Lexa's wound. It was a giant gash on her left side. She could see that no major organs had been punctured, Lexa had moved away just in the nick of time, but it was messy and big. She would have to stitch the subcutaneous layer before completing the outer sutures. She'd seen her mother do this, but had never tried it herself. She desperately wished Abby was there. She hadn't thought about her mother in weeks, but it was all coming back now.

 _She_ was coming back.

Clarke sighed. If she had Abby's voice to guide her through, like she'd been able to do to save Finn, that would be enough. But Abby wasn't here and Clarke wasn't going to let Lexa die. Especially not after she just lied to an entire nation of people to save her...

Sort of lied.

Lexa was an idiot for pulling out the spear the way she did. If she'd left it in, that would have slowed the bleeding. Or maybe it was the right thing to do. If it had stayed in her, the jagged blade might have torn her up even worse. Clarke forced herself to stop. It was pointless to think about “what if's” now. It was done. This was the situation handed to her. This could be handled. If she couldn't have her mother there with her in body or voice, she would try to channel her instead. What would Dr. Abby Griffin do?

Clarke grasped Lexa's tattered shirt in her hands and ripped it open the rest of the way. She made quick work of the rest of Lexa's armor so that only the wrap that covered her breasts remained. She ran her hands over Lexa's bare skin, wincing at how bruised and beaten the girl really was. And these were only the wounds that were immediately showing – it was likely Lexa would be black and blue for a while after this from the beating she'd taken. Her skin was feverish to the touch and her breathing was unsteady. Clarke tried to beat back the terrible whispers that Lexa might have already lost too much blood to survive whatever they did next.

Five _powerful_ and very skilled warriors were dead.

Lexa was still alive.

That was enough to allow her to hope.

But she didn't have much time.

“Be strong, Clarke.” Lexa's voice was faint, her eyes heavy and unfocused. “I have seen it, remember? Your heart shows no sign of weakness.”

The memory of them standing in the forest overwhelmed her senses. She'd been so proud of herself. Terrified, confused, numb, pleased, and proud. Clarke had saved them from the _pauna_. She saved Lexa then and now she'd done it twice. Could she do it a third time?

_Well, if I've invested this much in her life already..._

Clarke really didn't understand why she was fighting so hard for this girl on the table, but she didn't have time to question it. Everything in her mind and body was screaming at her to save Lexa, so, by God, she was going to try.

“Indra!” She broke into the argument between the two of them. “I've got this,” she said calmly. “Can you give us some space? We need to focus and this is not helping.”

Indra looked to Lexa on the table, who was near unconsciousness, but used the last bits of her strength to nod, giving her the order to leave. Setting her jaw, Indra glared at the healer before turning to Clarke with an almost panicked expression.

She was scared for Lexa.

“I've got this,” Clarke repeated as reassuringly as she could.

Swallowing hard, Indra looked the scene over once more before tearing herself away and left the tent. Clarke could hear her shouting orders outside. She certainly wasn't going very far.

Without Indra there to argue with him, the healer pulled out some greenish looking paste. He quickly slathered it over Lexa's wound and said, “ _Disha sis au stou jus, nou gon taim._ ”

_This will help slow the bleeding, but not for long._

Lexa was breathing shakily, but it was consistent. She had started to drift off and Clarke looked down at herself to see that her clothes were well soaked in Lexa's blood. It had to be done and it had to be done now.

She took a deep breath. “I'll do it. Give me your thread and needle. I need more light though. It's too dark in here.”

The healer nodded, grateful to not have to take responsibility for what he was sure was going to be the Commander's death. He rummaged through his things to find Clarke the tools while ordering the surrounding warriors to complete tasks of their own.

Some of them needed to leave for space, one went to get more clean cloths, another took a large sword and plunged it into the canvas ceiling. He cut a hole large enough for sunlight to pour through and then two of them stood on either side of the table Lexa was on, lifted it carefully, and carried her over to where the light was shining through now. Clarke took a bottle of what she assumed was the Grounder version of disinfectant and poured it over her hands and the needle.

It smelled exactly like what she had been drinking with the nomads, but she resisted the urge to take a swig of it. As difficult as it was to feel everything that she was feeling, she needed every sense and wit about her. She couldn't afford anything less.

 _Lexa_ couldn't afford anything less.

“She needs to be sedated,” Clarke said. “If she moves, it will cause more damage, and I don't know if--”

She didn't bother to continue because the healer was ahead of her and had already poured some liquid down Lexa's throat. She coughed and spluttered on it for a moment before falling back. He held a dampened cloth over her nose and mouth, letting her inhale it with a few deep breaths.

Lexa's breathing slowed, grew more even, and her body slackened as she embraced unconsciousness. He removed the cloth and busied himself with other preparations. Clarke took that moment to look at Lexa's face. She seemed peaceful in that moment, despite being half hidden with her black, smudged war paint mixed with blood.

The peacefulness brought back the same look of youth that had startled Clarke earlier that day. God, was it really the same day? Was it really just this morning that they sat across from each other on the riverbed eating trout for breakfast? It felt like months had passed between that moment and now.

She noticed the cut on her cheek had stopped bleeding. If only the next part would be as easy.

“I can do this, Lexa,” she whispered to the sleeping girl. “Don't die on me now after all of this.”

Clarke stood up straight, inhaled deeply, and signaled that she was ready. The healer pried away the now hardened green poultice to open Lexa's wound again. Clarke wavered at the sight of it, but leaned in anyway. She poured the disinfectant directly into the wound and saw the jagged edges that the spear made as it ripped savagely through her body.

She half expected Lexa to wake up screaming from the pain, but she remained still. Whatever the healer had given her, it knocked her out cold. Clarke didn't want to ask how long it would last because the simple matter was that Lexa did not have much longer before the blood loss was too great...if it wasn't already.

_No, don't think like that._

Clarke shook her head and set to work, the first few stitches were clumsy, she fumbled to get the right angle, and her grip kept slipping, but soon she found a rhythm and what she was doing seemed to be working so that gave her more confidence to keep going.

Sweat ran down her back and forehead as she focused on nothing else but slowly, methodically, sewing the wound closed. Her back hurt and her legs were shaking, but she wouldn't stop for anything. Hitting a rough spot, she snapped, “I can't see anything! Open the flap there! You! Pour this over the wound so I can get a glimpse of whatever the hell it is I'm doing.”

The remaining warriors in the tent jumped to attention, relieved to have something to do, and ran outside to roll back an opening that would expose more light at a different angle. They gathered more people and had them form a human shield in front of the opening to prevent Lexa from being exposed to anyone passing by or perhaps chancing an attack.

Clarke cursed profusely when one of the stitches fell apart and she was forced to do it over. The light was fading now so even the open tent wasn't helping. The healer had gotten the guards to light as many torches as they could and he surrounded Clarke with odd looking metal things that had bright flames contained in glass. They helped. Later, Clarke would remember the name of them from her Earth history lessons: oil lamps.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the inner lining of the wound was closed, and Lexa was still breathing.

Pale, but breathing.

She pressed trembling, sticky fingers against Lexa's throat to feel for her pulse. Faint, but steady. Clarke noticed all of a sudden how dark it was outside and she realized that she really had been at it for hours.

It was an ugly job and an even uglier looking wound, but the hardest part was over.

Her hands shook as she pulled away for a moment to gather herself. If those stitches didn't hold, Lexa would have internal bleeding and be dead in a couple days.

Seeing how much this had taken out of her, the healer offered to take over, especially now that the worst part was done. Clarke was exasperated, but took him up on the offer. She _was_ exhausted and he probably had steadier hands than she did at the moment.

Hands that weren't caked with Lexa's dried blood.

She watched him work for a few minutes, just to ensure that he actually did know what he was doing. His fingers made quick work of the stitches, flying by with ease, which made her that much more bitter. He had acted like a novice who barely knew a thing about treating trauma wounds, and now here he was, flicking his wrist, looping the thread, catching the knots, and slipping the needle through the skin like it was as easy and normal for him as having lunch.

But it did make her wonder... What was the punishment if the Commander died under your attention? Clarke assumed it must be bad if someone, as _clearly_ skilled as he, was afraid to take on the job. Maybe it was just a fear of karma. If they believed in reincarnation, maybe karma was a big thing to the Grounders too.

Confident that Lexa would be okay for the next few minutes without her, Clarke retreated backwards and collapsed into a hard chair. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. It was just the adrenaline, she told herself.

Indra walked back into the tent, first looking at Lexa's pale, still body, and then at Clarke, who was sitting, covered from head to toe in Lexa's blood.

“Will she live?”

“She damn well better.”


	13. Blood Must Give Blood

Someone brought her a bucket of water and rags to clean up with. Clarke didn't even think to thank them until after they left. She put both her hands in the tepid water and began to scrub. It wasn't having any effect at first, so she scrubbed harder.

The healer, Clarke now knew his name was Enock, had finished stitching Lexa's wound and cleaned up the tent before leaving to replenish his supplies and clean his tools. Others had run up to the tent periodically, calling for him to help the injured from the riot, but Indra pulled her sword and held it to his chest. He wasn't allowed to leave Lexa for anyone else yet.

Lexa uttered a soft moan and Clarke immediately dropped the rag, going to her side. It was the first sound Lexa had made in quite a while.

But when she saw Lexa, her hope turned to ash.

Clarke had seen to it that Lexa was wrapped in a blanket, but she was still shivering. A thin layer of sweat covered her bare skin. Her eyes were closed and she groaned quietly, moving her head a little. Fear seizing her, Clarke reached out to check her pulse and felt the artery beating rapidly beneath her fingers.

_No...no...please, no..._

“I need some help in here!” she cried.

Enock rushed in immediately and dropped his things, examining Lexa. He saw the same that Clarke did and looked to her mournfully. He had expected his. Yet, he didn't seem to be doing anything about it.

Indra ran in as well, throwing back the opening of the tent with more force than she needed.

“What happened?”

“She's going into hypovolemic shock,” Clarke said wildly. “It has to be the stitches, they didn't hold, she's hemorrhaging internally.” Clarke pressed her fingers into Lexa's side and felt the swelling around the wound. She was right.

Indra and Enock stared at her vacantly and she had never felt more alone than in that moment.

“ _Please_...” she said, looking to Enock. “Open her again, do them over, you're better at it than I am and you _know_ it.”

He exhaled sharply before nodding and quickly grabbed a small blade off the table. Without a moment's hesitation, he expertly slit through the stitches he had just done, but not deep enough to touch the ones Clarke did underneath. When the first layer reopened, blood oozed through, confirming Clarke's diagnosis. Enock busied himself with collecting the needle and thread, setting to work.

But it wouldn't be enough to just stop the bleeding this time.

“She's lost too much blood,” Clarke said. “We need to give her a transfusion.”

Indra and Enock were lost again.

“We need to give her blood,” she explained.

Indra was horrified by this foreign concept. Clearly, blood transfusions were not standard medical practice for Grounders because Enock was wide-eyed too.

Clarke didn't give a flying fuck what they thought.

But how was she supposed to do a transfusion when she didn't know Lexa's blood type? She had no IV materials or tubing or...

It hit her.

She spun around, knocking over several things on the table until she was able to grasp what she was looking for. She held the bottle of disinfectant up to Indra.

“This! This is like moonshine! How do your people make it?”

She remembered the swill on the Ark, Monty and Jasper's moonshine set up, the glimpse she had of the nomads own creation. It was all similar enough.

“I do not know, I am a warrior, not a--”

“Is it with tubes? Are there small plastic tubes or something like that?” Clarke demanded.

Enock nodded in reply when Indra seemed incapable of speaking.

“I need you to get them. I need the tubes, I don't care what you have to do. Just rip them out and bring them to me as quickly as you can!”

Indra was uncertain and she wanted to argue, wanted to ask what it was that Clarke planned to do, but Lexa started shaking violently and she realized that whatever Clarke had planned was Lexa's only hope.

She disappeared from the tent, shouting for the Seconds to join her.

“Okay...okay...” Clarke said shakily to herself. “Now we need something sharp and hollow. Two of them.”

She went back to Enock's medical tools that were now a mess and strewn all over the table. She searched through all of them until she, thankfully, found a very small, sharp, odd looking piece of wood that was probably used for draining wounds. It was going to hurt like a bitch, but it could work.

“Do you have another one of these?” she asked, holding it up for Enock to see.

He nodded and pointed with a grunt to a bag in the corner. Clarke ran over and dumped all the contents out, searching them until she found what she needed.

She didn't know Lexa's blood type, but Lexa had a better chance of surviving the wrong blood type than she did surviving no blood at all. Everyone on the Ark was supposed to be a "universal donor", it was a practical genetic alteration to help preserve the human race, but "universal" only applied before they knew mankind still existed on the ground. Right now, there was no way to know what type of blood the Grounders had after 100 years of extreme radiation exposure and numerous generations produced with mutations unknown.

Clarke would have to take the risk.

She doused both pieces in the disinfectant and peered over Enock's shoulder to see what he was doing. Indeed, a few of her weaker stitches had slipped open and allowed blood to leak through. He was managing well enough, even by just the light of the oil lamps and torches.

Lexa moved again with a soft moan and Clarke heard her name escape her lips.

Enock glanced up at her quickly to see if she had heard. Clarke went around the table and grasped Lexa's hand.

“Stay with me,” she said. " _Ste yuj, Heda._ "

_Be strong._

Lexa was half unconscious. Clarke was sure she was just fever-dreaming right now. At least, she hoped she was. That was better than having to be present for all this.

Softly, even though she knew Lexa couldn't hear, she murmured, “I'll get you through this.”

Indra reappeared in the tent followed by one of the Seconds who had their arms full of dirty looking plastic tubing. Clarke searched for the cleanest looking section and snatched Indra's knife from her belt before she could say a word and neatly sliced off two ends for a piece of it. She handed Indra back her blade without looking at her, only focused on the tubes. Indra stared at her in open disbelief.

Clarke only saw Lexa and what would be her last chance.

It would work.

It _had_ to work.

Clarke poured the disinfectant over and through the tube. It would be long enough to stretch between them. She would have to slice open a vein and dig the wooden tool deep before covering it.

Enock was still working on Lexa's stitches, but there was no time to waste. Clarke inserted one end of the wooden drain into the tube and held out Lexa's arm. She carefully split a vein open with one of Enock's small, thin, knives and inserted the sharper end of the drain at the same angle she would have done if she were using a needle for the procedure.

It wasn't easy and she checked it a dozen times over to be sure that she had hit the vein properly, holding one of the oil lamps close to Lexa's arm to see as best she could.

Indra had ordered everyone away from the tent except for Clarke and Enock.

“You're going to do what the _Maunon_ did to our people?” she asked. “You will bleed her?”

“I'm going to bleed myself,” Clarke explained, not looking up from her work. “Lexa needs blood to replenish what she lost and I have some to spare.”

“You will do no such thing!”

Clarke whipped her head around at that. “Excuse me?”

“That is _the Commander_. The Commander's blood is _sacred_! She would never allow such an abomination to happen. An outsider's blood mixing with hers? Never!” Indra spat.

“It's going to save her life!” Clarke replied in disbelief.

“She would not want her life to be saved this way, not through this...ghoulish treatment. That is the way of the _Maunon_ and _Skaikru_ , but not us! We die with honor or we die with shame. We do not practice such--”

Clarke cut her off abruptly. “If Lexa were awake right now, you and I know _very_ well that she would say something along the lines of: “ _Shof op, Indra. Masta op em, Klark. Jus giv jus op.”_

_Enough, Indra. Follow Clarke. Blood must give blood._

Her Lexa imitation was unnervingly accurate.

Indra looked close to strangling Clarke with her bare hands, but Clarke never flinched. She met the woman head on, staring her down with her back straight and her chin raised defiantly.

Indra knew she was right, but she hated every second of it.

“It cannot be yours,” she said harshly. “Not a _splita's_ blood in my Commander's veins. I will give mine.”

“No, you can't,” Clarke replied. “The process will leave the donor weak and even if Lexa survives this, she will be in no position to defend herself. We need you to be at your best – especially if there are threats out there right now.”

She eyed Indra knowingly. Clarke had been distracted, but that didn't mean she hadn't heard the scuffles outside, the shouting, or the hushed, worried whispers of the warriors. Something was coming for Lexa, and probably for Clarke as well, but they weren't ready for it yet. Indra was the last line of defense between them and the coming storm.

“Then one of our people!” the older woman insisted. She was grasping at straws now. “Any one of them. So long as it is _our_ blood that continues to flow!”

“Whoever your choose could potentially be carrying a blood-borne disease," Clarke said tiredly, "and I have no way of testing them. But I know for certain that my blood is clean. They tested me in Mount Weather.”

Indra snarled at the mention of it.

“Lexa would trust me! She would let me save her. You _know_ she would.”

“Sometimes the Commander needs to be protected from herself.”

“Some people would call that _treasonous_ kind of thinking,” Clarke shot back.

Indra was startled and Enock looked up in surprise. Clarke was using some very dangerous words here and she knew it.

“Are you going to try and stop me? I can't have you interfering. You'll kill us both if you do.”

Indra said nothing, which Clarke took as her relinquishing the battle.

What she didn't say, mostly because it was a private hope and also because it would just cause Indra more outrage, was that the real reason why she didn't want to use Grounder blood was because she was hoping her blood would be more effective.

If her genetically modified blood was healing to the radiation-sick people of Mount Weather, then why couldn't it have similar properties that could help Lexa heal faster or adapt more quickly to the mix of blood types? The people of the Ark were genetically engineered to metabolize radiation sickness and be universal donors, but there were other enhancements too. Being able to use less oxygen. Metabolize less vitamin D. And so on. Clarke didn't even know all of the ways their bodies were designed to be different from those on the Ground.

She could be horribly wrong about this. It would have been safer to use Grounder blood that was more like Lexa's own rather than risk the unknown, but Clarke had a feeling about this, and she couldn't ignore her instincts now when she needed them the most.

“Here, wrap this above my elbow tightly - it's a tourniquet.” She extended her arm and held a piece of twine for Indra.

At first, it looked like she might refuse, but she took the twine and while watching Clarke's face, she yanked it tight around her bicep. Clarke took a deep breath and grabbed a piece of leather from the table. She put it between her teeth and poured disinfectant over the same knife she used on Lexa.

This time though, she cut into her arm. The pain was sharp and deep, but quickly dulled over into a powerful throbbing. Paying it no mind, Clarke handed the end of her tube to Enock and held out her arm for him. He didn't need to be told what to do, having seen how she did it to Lexa. Clarke closed her eyes and let out a muffled cry when he stuck the wooden piece into her arm.

Spitting out the leather, she said breathlessly, “Wrap this cloth around it with the twine.” She waved her hand over the table where it was all laid out. He did as instructed and Clarke stood above Lexa with her arm outstretched. Blood flowed slowly down the clear plastic tubing and they all seemed to hold their breath until it reached Lexa.

“This will save her?” Indra asked unsurely as she stared, transfixed, at the dark red blood flowing through the tube and into Lexa's arm.

“If it doesn't, nothing will," Clarke said dully.

Enock left Lexa's side long enough to bring one of the chairs next to the table for Clarke. She nodded with gratitude and sat down, holding her arm out wearily.

Now there was a question of how much blood Clarke could give before it became life-threatening for herself. It was hard to judge how much she was losing, but she didn't care. She just needed Lexa to open her eyes again.

_Please..please, let this work._

The three of them stayed there in silence.

Waiting.


	14. Patience

“You should stop now,” Enock said in barely a whisper.

That was the first time he had spoken in English to her.

Clarke was shaking. She had removed the tourniquet, Enock had finished re-stitching Lexa's wound, and Indra was outside checking with the guards. Everything seemed to be holding together, but Lexa still hadn't woken up. Clarke was encouraged though because Lexa's face had some color again, her pulse had resumed a steadier beat, and her skin wasn't nearly as warm as it had been before.

And yet...

“I don't know if it's enough,” she croaked.

“Whether or not it is enough for her, it is enough for _you_. Stop now.”

He was right. Clarke knew it. She had been encroaching a dangerous point in the last few minutes, but she'd ignored it. It didn't matter how weak she was. Lexa needed everything she could get right now. But Clarke was no good to anyone dead, so she would take a break. Maybe after a few hours and eating something, she could try again if Lexa showed no improvement.

Her mother's voice was in the back of her head, shouting vehement disapproval of these thoughts. It took at least 24 hours for a pint of donated blood to be replenished and longer for the cells to be replaced. Losing 20 percent, or 4-5 pints, was almost certain death.

The heaviness she felt and the way her hand was shaking as she groped for the makeshift IV told Clarke that she had probably given at least 2 pints of blood to Lexa by now. She was likely going into shock. She wanted to tell Enock that, but her tongue was thick and useless. Her head spun viciously, but she gritted her teeth and propped her arm on the table, her hand resting against Lexa's still body, and tried with every ounce of energy left in her, to get her fingers around the insert.

Thankfully, she was relieved of the task by much stronger and steadier hands. Enock pushed her useless attempts away and gently removed the tube. He made quick work of removing it from Lexa as well and wrapped her arm tightly with a cloth. He turned back to Clarke, who hadn't been able to move because it was taking all her strength to stay sitting up right, and applied some kind of mixture over where the incision was made. Clarke was finding it hard to make her eyes focus, she kept zoning in and out. Half aware of what he was doing, but unable to comment on it.

He wrapped her arm expertly and Clarke felt herself being lifted into the air. She watched the billowing canvas of the tent overhead as it stood against the wind.

“Check her pulse. K-keep her warm,” Clarke struggled. She had to make sure Lexa was properly taken care of. “You have to...you have to...”

“I will watch over her,” Indra said and Clarke was confused because she didn't even know when Indra had come back in.

She was laid down somewhere, it was darker, but she could still see the glow that came from all the firelight surrounding Lexa. It was very cold, but the material she grasped told her that she had several blankets placed over her.

“She better fucking wake up,” she said hoarsely.

Clarke didn't know if she had thought it or actually said the words aloud, but that was the last thing she remembered before her eyes closed.

* * *

Hushed voices and an unfamiliar tongue roused Clarke from the depths of wherever she had been. It didn't feel like sleeping.

She cracked her eyes open to see daylight beaming through the hole in the ceiling of the tent that they made yesterday. Hopefully, it had only been yesterday. The grogginess was overwhelming, but she blinked and rubbed her eyes clumsily, anything to help her see more of her surroundings. She could hear them talking, but she didn't know who “they” were yet. There were blurry shapes of human forms crowded around together a few feet away from her. They were all speaking in Trigedasleng.

Clarke's whole body ached from the inside out. When she moved one of her arms, shooting pains went straight up to her shoulder and she yelped at the unexpected intensity.

The voices stopped at once.

Finally, a face she could recognize appeared before her. Enock was leaning over her, poking and prodding. Clarke batted him away with the arm that didn't feel like it was on fire.

“Help me up. Is she okay?”

No sooner had she said it, did she hear the reply.

“I am well, Clarke.”

Enock lifted her from the pallet she'd been laid on last night and Clarke saw clearly for the first time. Lexa was sitting up, propped up by wadded blankets and other soft materials, and she was looking right at her.

Relief washed over Clarke's body and it was the first time she felt like she could breathe again since being brought to the village.

Lexa's face was glowing, her voice was clear, her eyes were the same as always, dark and penetrating. It was like someone forgot to tell her that she almost died a dozen times yesterday and shouldn't be looking so healthy. The cut on her cheek was still there though and that was reminder enough. Clarke didn't have to look down to know that her stomach was wrapped heavily to secure her side.

Clarke's legs might as well have been jelly for how useful they were at the moment and Enock basically carried her to Lexa's bedside, helping her into the same chair Clarke had used last night. It brought her and Lexa nearly to eye level.

“You're awake,” Clarke said dumbly.

Lexa gave a slow nod and then dismissed the lieutenants and other people crowded around her. Indra was the only one who lingered behind but one look from Lexa had her moodily stomping out as well.

“I was told I live because of you,” she said quietly, meeting Clarke's eyes.

Clarke chuckled, but it turned into a choking sound as she coughed.

“Yeah,” she said groggily. “Guess I had something to do with it.”

“You offered me your blood at great risk to your own life?”

Her nostrils flared and she straightened in the chair angrily. “If you even _think_ of trying to tell me that I shouldn't ha--”

“No,” Lexa cut her off gently. “I am...deeply honored, Clarke. I am in your debt. You showed me great kindness that I did not deserve from you.”

“Oh.” She wasn't prepared for that. “You're welcome.”

Why was this so awkward? It didn't seem to be this uncomfortable and tense last night when she was cutting Lexa open and draining her own blood into her.

“I didn't expect you to recover this quickly,” Clarke said, looking Lexa over more carefully now.

She was wearing a clean shirt and had a blanket covering the rest of her body. Someone had helped her clean up because there wasn't a trace of her war paint or any blood on her face or neck. For a moment, Clarke wondered if Enock had tended to her other wounds, particularly her leg, but Lexa didn't seem to be in any pain. Not that she would let it show if she was. If it wasn't for the lack of overall movement and the way she kept her left arm cradled against her body, Lexa would have seemed to be just reclining leisurely instead of being a wounded patient in recovery

“Are you well? Do you need anything? Food? Water?”

Clarke snorted. “Yeah. I could use some of that.”

Instantly, Lexa shouted orders in her native tongue for the attendants who were standing just outside the tent. Seeing the Commander in true form, when she had been so perilously close to slipping away mere hours ago, was both heartening and comforting for Clarke to see. She smiled.

It was the first time she had truly smiled since she left Camp Jaha all those months ago, the first time she had felt any kind of relief. The weight of the burden she had carried all this time had lessened a little. It wasn't gone by any means, but it was _lighter_. She hadn't know that was possible.

“ _Really_ did not expect you to recover this quickly.”

Lexa laughed softly.

“Neither did I.”

* * *

 

Against Clarke's many protestations, they allowed Lexa one day of rest before putting her on a horse to travel back to _Polis_ flanked by her many warriors.

Clarke rode at her side, still weak and pale, but well enough to stay upright on a horse. Though she did wonder if she should have someone tie her hands to the saddle so she didn't accidentally slip off at some point. She wanted Lexa strapped on too, but Lexa was far more adept to riding horses than she was. It was second nature to her, as easy as walking, so it probably was just Clarke worrying too much. But she hated seeing the way the horse jostled Lexa's body, knowing that underneath that clothing and armor, was a very nasty and very hard to sew wound that could tear open again at just the slightest movement.

“Stop worrying, Clarke,” Lexa said without looking at her, focused on the trail ahead.

“I wasn't worrying.”

“So you were staring at me for another reason?” She turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

Clarke's cheeks flushed bright red.

“If you had any idea of how much work went into trying to put you back together, you wouldn't be telling me not to worry.”

Lexa sighed. “I promised you I would rest when we reached _Polis_ and I will keep that promise. It was too dangerous to stay there, Clarke.”

“I know,” she conceded. “It doesn't mean I have to like it.”

“You will like the city,” Lexa said, urging her away from the subject.

“We'll find out soon enough. Which reminds me, is that happening sooner or later? I thought it was only three miles.”

Lexa smiled. “Patience, Clarke.”

“Not something I'm known for.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

Clarke couldn't even muster a dirty look. She snorted in amusement and clapped her hand over her mouth to prevent any giggles from leaking out. Lexa using sarcasm was a rare treat indeed.

“I think you've been around me for too long, Lexa,” she teased.

Lexa was quiet for a moment before she replied, “I was thinking entirely the opposite.”

The seriousness of her tone sank into Clarke's body with a not altogether unpleasant weight.

They rode in silence the rest of the way, but every so often their eyes met to say all the things they could not yet say.


	15. Commander Self Righteous

Clarke woke from a deep sleep. Rich, yellow light streamed through the slatted shutters in her room. She could tell by the strength of the light that it was probably afternoon. She had slept far longer than the normal eight hours. Understandably. It had been quite some time since she'd had any real sleep.

Upon arriving in Polis, Clarke discovered that Lexa did not live in a tent, but that she had a house. Rather, a _mansion_. It was an old palatial structure that had collapsed in some parts, but others had been preserved and rebuilt after the bombs. Lexa wasn't the only one who lived there. Most of her generals and lieutenants, Indra included, had rooms there. Lexa had an apartment or a suite that was considered her private quarters – set off from everyone else so that she had privacy. She gave Clarke one of the empty bedrooms in that suite, close enough to her room so that if she needed help, if the wound reopened, if an infection developed, Clarke would be close by.

At least, that's what they both said when they discussed where Clarke would stay.

Lexa had a handful of attendants who maintained her quarters and took care of her, but Clarke had medical training and even though she insisted on Enock traveling to _Polis_ with them – Clarke trusted no other now – he was staying in another part of the house with the warriors.

It was a perfectly logical explanation.

Clarke rose from the comfort of her bed and washed up using the toiletries that one of Lexa's attendants had left for her sometime earlier. The mint leaf brush was Clarke's new favorite thing in the world.

She grimaced at the state of her clothes that she'd been wearing every day without a care for the last few months. They were grimy, filthy, bloodstained, and they absolutely reeked. She hadn't really been able to tell the difference between the odor from her clothes and her unwashed body, but now she certainly did.

Last night she'd actually gotten a _bath_.

Lexa had them pour one for her after Clarke saw to it that Lexa would go straight to bed. She had checked the wound, searching for any signs of inflammation or infection, but everything looked as it was supposed to. She also did a quick examination of Lexa, checking for symptoms of a bad reaction to the transfusion. She wasn't sure exactly what they were, but knew she'd be able to recognize the signs if they were there. But Lexa was perfectly fine and healing at a remarkable rate.

It was actually incredible that she was doing as well as she did after the trauma her body suffered. The other cuts had been shallow enough not to need stitches and the limping Clarke had seen in the arena was due to a mild sprained ankle. Clarke didn't know if it was just how Lexa healed normally or if she'd been right about her blood acting as an agent to speed up the healing process. In any case, it had worked, Lexa showed no adverse signs to being given blood from a Sky Person.

Clarke thought of her mother and what Abby would say about this. She'd probably be livid with Clarke for risking her life, risking her life for _Lexa_ , but maybe the physician side of her would be impressed and interested in the medical possibilities for future treatment. Clarke cut off that path of thinking quickly. She wasn't ready to think about her Mom like that. She wasn't ready to think about any of her friends. Or her people. Not now. Not yet.

Lexa shooed her away after a short examination and swore that she would go straight to bed if Clarke would also promise to get some rest herself. It was pure heaven as Clarke sunk into the porcelain basin of warm water and was able to wash her hair.

Her _hair_!

The closest thing she'd gotten to a shower since landing on Earth was a rainstorm, and her only bath had been the death defying jump from the cliff with Anya into a river.

After that, she had no energy to eat, even though the attendants had brought her dinner. She simply dried off, slipped under the furs completely naked, and passed out.

Now, she was still naked, and there was no way she was going to put those disgusting clothes back on. They needed to be burned, not worn. She looked around the room wondering what she could cover herself with as she tried to find one of Lexa's people and see if they would lend her...

Oh. They already had.

There was a clean shirt with pants, wrapping for her chest, and boots laid out on a chair near the bed. Clarke could really get used to this. Why would Lexa ever want to leave _Polis_?

There was the dark dread that snuck in again. She'd felt it last night too, twisting her stomach in knots, flashes of what she'd done.

But saw how Lexa had been treated upon her return. Shunned, Accused. Nearly killed.

She saved thousands of lives by forsaking all others.

Clarke saved the lives of her people over the lives of the people in Mount Weather.

Dante and Cage never would have stopped. People do desperate things when their lives are put in jeopardy and every single life in that Mountain was dying.

If Clarke hadn't pulled the lever all of her people would be dead and the Grounders would be embroiled in war with a Mountain that could _move_. And they would have done it without Lexa because Lexa would be dead.

It would never be right. It would never be okay. It would stay with her for the rest of her life.

But she was seeing life that existed now because of her actions. Life that might not be here otherwise. Maybe there could have been another way, but maybe not. An entire civilization was gone because of her decision to save her people and sacrifice the rest. She would never be at peace with the magnitude of her choice, but perhaps the burden didn't mean she was unfit to survive. Maybe she could learn to live with it in time. Before seeing Lexa sitting upright, talking to her warriors again after that terrible night, she didn't think her burden could ever be eased. Now she knew it was possible. She didn't just kill people, she could save them too. Her life was more than being _Wanheda_. She could still be better. She could still feel good things again. She wasn't a bad person for wanting to.

She made a choice. It was an ugly choice and not without the most terrible consequences. But it had saved the lives of her people. They were at war and no one ever wins in war – not even the victors.

Once dressed, she set out to find Lexa. She found her room and knocked, but no one answered, and when she peered in, she saw that it was empty. Annoyed that Lexa wasn't resting like she was supposed to be, even though Clarke hardly expected her to, she exited Lexa's suite and started exploring the rest of the building. She could have snooped around Lexa's room a little bit, just to get some more insight to this girl. Oddly, it felt like Lexa was so easy to read now, but she was still wrapped in an enigma. Lexa was a paradox for Clarke, she always had been, but it only made her allure stronger. Not once did that make Clarke want to turn away. Not in the beginning, not now, and as far as she knew, perhaps not ever. Lexa's betrayal and Lexa's paradoxical existence were two separate entities in her mind.

Maybe it was that Clarke was just a huge hypocrite.

It proved to be far more difficult than she thought to navigate the house. There were endless rows of hallways, turning her around again and again. She felt like she was in a maze. She had no memory of how they'd arrived and many of the windows were boarded shut. Clarke assumed it was a matter of security for Lexa. Finally, she came across one of the attendants who agreed to lead her to where Lexa was.

They led her to a set of open doors that seemed to be the entrance to a massive ballroom and there were two guards. Once she saw the guards, she didn't need any further confirmation to know Lexa was most definitely inside. Clarke thanked the attendant and tried to enter, but the guards blocked her.

Exasperated, she looked to the one on her right and crossed her arms. “Yeah, hi, Clarke of the Sky People, _Wanheda_. Here to see the Commander. She knows I'm here. Let me pass.”

“No one enters or leaves without order of the Commander.”

Clarke was getting _really_ tired of this game. Lexa's life was so goddamn dramatic sometimes.

“Cross my heart, she's okay with it, just let me in--” she tried to slip by, but they stepped in at once, shoving her back.

“No one enters or leaves without--”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time!” Clarke cried, rolling her eyes. “Just tell her I'm here then.”

They exchanged a furtive glance, but didn't move.

Clarke glared at them. “What are you waiting for? Go!"

With an annoyed grunt, the one on the left clenched his jaw and reluctantly went into the room. Clarke saw him whispering rapidly with a woman inside and they both looked at Clarke who made an impatient gesture for them to hurry up.

The woman wasn't happy about it, but she seemed to recognize her and approved Clarke's entry.

“Finally!”

Clarke passed the guards and resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at them.

The room was massive with the highest ceilings Clarke had ever seen before. There were windows lining an entire wall, but they were covered almost completely with long rolls of ratty fabric, strips of canvas, and wooden boards. Even with everything covered, the sun was strong enough to shine plenty of light in.

There were only a couple dozen people in there, men and women. Lexa was seated before them on her throne. It was a large intricate and ornately decorated wooden chair, draped in animal pelts, that was on a raised platform a couple feet off the ground.

Lexa was fresh faced, but wore some heavy, dark clothing that seemed to be a compromise between her battle armor and the dress she wore at the encampment by the river. She was leaning slightly, favoring her right side, but her legs were crossed leisurely, and she leaned back in such a way that made it all look like it was on purpose and not one bit like she was doing it because of injury.

Clarke heard them speaking in Trigedasleng. Rather, Lexa was listening while two others sounded like they were giving her a detailed report of something.

She heard Nia's name and saw Lexa's jaw line tighten.

Nia was still alive.

From the bits Clarke gleaned, the men talking were giving a report on the clan leaders who had survived and who had fallen.

That was all she got before the woman who gave her permission to enter interrupted them and approached Lexa quickly, whispering something to her. Lexa's eyes shot up into the group of people, searching for her. Clarke stepped forward confidently, but when she saw the look on Lexa's face, that confidence faded.

“This is a meeting of the war council, Clarke,” she said sternly, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Outsiders are forbidden to enter the war chambers.”

Clarke couldn't hide the hurt on her face. “Since when?”

Lexa's brow furrowed almost angrily. “When we worked with your people to defeat the Mountain Men, it was a battle we planned together.”

_Yeah, cause that worked out so well..._

“But now that war has ended. The Sky People have nothing to do with what it is at hand. You will leave now or be removed from the room.”

All of Lexa's generals, lieutenants, and seconds, were staring at her with expressions ranging from angry to indifferent to mocking. Clarke glowered up at Lexa who simply raised her chin defiantly and waited for Clarke to go.

Infuriated, humiliated, and most of all, hurt, Clarke took a few steps back before turning on her heel and storming out of the room. She couldn't bear to see the faces of the guards as she walked past them again and just kept her head down as she barreled down the hall as quickly as could, turning a corner to be out of sight.

Clarke wiped her eyes furiously with the back of her hands to dispel the tears.

She knew why she was angry, but she didn't understand why it was _hurting_ so much to be rejected that way. Publicly humiliated. She had believed that she and Lexa had a bond now...a bond that meant she was allowed to...

_Whatever._

_She'd been wrong._

So intent on keeping her head down and to keep moving, she collided with another warrior who thought it was a good idea to plant himself right in front of Clarke.

He didn't seem to expect her to be so strong though and stumbled over backwards before he quickly righted himself, standing rigidly in front of her.

“ _Heda_ has ordered you to stay here until she is done,” he announced with bravado and a puffed up chest.

Clarke's blood was boiling.

The absolute _nerve_ of her...

“I don't take orders from _Lexa,_ ” she spat and shoved past him.

He was taken off-guard by her refusal, clearly he did not expect that either, but he ran around Clarke to stand in her way again.

“ _H-Heda_ said that you are not to leave until she has finished,” he insisted and widened his stance in case she tried to push him again.

Clarke looked at him incredulously. “Are you new here or something?”

Actually, upon closer inspection, she discovered that this scrawny “warrior” couldn't have been more than twelve. He was a _tall_ twelve, but his face was so young and his gangly limbs just screamed prepubescent.

He was likely one of the new Seconds-in-training that Indra had pointed out when they entered the city yesterday. They rode past a large group of young warriors in lock-step as they learned new commands and fighting stances. Lexa spoke about them passionately and with a tenderness that Clarke had never really heard in her voice before. She said that she wanted to pay them a visit soon – that one of the most vital elements of their survival was the training of young ones.

_Damn her._

Lexa sent a _child_ because she knew that Clarke wouldn't hesitate to fight or disregard any one of her grown soldiers, but if it was a child...

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” Clarke hissed.

The boy looked at her warily. “Does that mean you will obey?”

“The hell it does!” she snapped, but one more look at him, how young and innocent he was, she knew she couldn't allow him to potentially get in trouble for not stopping her.

_Damn her to hell._

_Who the fuck did she think she was?_

_Commander of the Self Righteous Jackasses!_

With a huff, she turned around and collapsed on a bench nearby. When she raised her head again, she saw that the boy appeared to be immensely relieved.

_Well, at least someone was happy about this._


	16. Disaster of a Catastrophe of a Meltdown

“I am not one of your _subjects_ , Lexa!” Clarke shouted, storming into the room after the last of the warriors had taken their leave. “I don't take orders from you! You're not _my_ Commander!”

Lexa was no longer on the throne. Instead, she was standing on the floor with her arms at her side, resting her back against the platform. She was wholly prepared for Clarke's anger.

“First, you speak to me in front of your people that way, like I'm yesterday's trash. Let's just forget how I saved your life! _Twice_! After you've betrayed me and left me for dead! What gives you the right? And then you send that kid after me knowing damn well that I couldn't--!”

“Clarke, I needed to see you,” she said quietly. “I sent him because I knew you would liste--”

“I don't care what _you need_!” Clarke seethed. “It's not my problem and you have more than enough of your people here to act out your power trip with. You don't get to _play_ me, Lexa. Not again!”

Lexa didn't understand what that meant, but Clarke didn't care.

“It's not happening. Whatever _this_ is,” she gestured between them furiously, “it's not happening! Why am I even here?” she cried. “You're alive! I did the right thing and then I should have left. What am I doing here?” She ran her fingers through her hair anxiously. “You don't want me here, you made that clear enough--”

“I _do_ want you here,” she said softly.

“As what?” Clarke snapped. “What _exactly_ do you want me for? I'm not a toy, Lexa. You don't get to choose what I do, where I go, when you use me, and when you don't!”

Lexa bristled. “That is _not_ what I was doing.” Her own anger was starting to show now. “Clarke, you stomped in here like an entitled child, demanding entrance to the war chambers when you are not one of my people and you have nothing to do with our internal matters. I _must_ have the respect and loyalty of every single person in this room, my life and the lives of my people depend on it, and you walked in like it was your right! You made it seem like I was under your influence. I cannot allow them to believe, even for a moment, that an outsider, of the _Skaikru,_ is affecting my choices!”

She was breathing harder now and swallowed with some difficulty.

“You saw what happened to me when I was deemed too weak to lead, Clarke. Are you really going to claim ignorance and say that me asking you to leave a _private_ room, where we were discussing _clan matters,_ was wrong because it hurt your _feelings_? I cannot risk _anything_ right now! I must be as fierce and unyielding as ever before. I cannot afford to allow them even a moment's doubt of their _Heda's_ strength to rule. You threaten that, Clarke! You always have!”

“Then I'll leave,” Clarke said simply and shrugged.

If that's how Lexa felt, then she wouldn't stick around for a moment longer than necessary.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” she said coldly. “I'll make arrangements on my own and be gone by tomorrow.”

She started to walk away and Lexa reached out to stop her, but she had forgotten about her wound, and the pain wracked her entire body. She stifled a grunt as best she could at the shock of how much it hurt, but Clarke had heard her.

She looked back to see Lexa gritting her teeth and favoring her right side more than ever.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lexa said quickly, breathing hard through her nose. “If you wish to leave, that is your right. You have done far more than anyone could have asked you to do, Clarke.”

Clarke wasn't even listening, instead she was surveying Lexa's current state. The girl was hunched over, half leaning against the raised platform. She was pale and there was a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was panting and tried to hide it, but was utterly failing.

“Is it your wound? Let me--”

“I do not require medical attention,” she said stiffly. “I am fine.”

“Lift your shirt.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I told you, I am fin--”

“Lexa,” Clarke cut her off firmly. “Lift. Your. Shirt.”

Lexa glared at her for a long moment before gritting her teeth and reached down with one shaky hand to grasp the edge of her tunic.

“The _other_ arm” Clarke said knowingly.

Lexa practically growled at her, but she still took the challenge head one. Neither one of them had it in them to back down. Locking her eyes on Clarke, Lexa showed an intense amount of concentration as she slowly straightened her bandaged left arm, that Clarke had cut open for the transfusion, enough to reach the bottom of her tunic and raised the material inch by inch, each one looking harder than the next. Her breaths came in short and pained - she was straining every muscle in her body to complete this grueling task. Her arm had just reached high enough to show a sliver of the wrapping underneath when her legs gave way.

Panicked, Clarke ran to her, helping her back to her feet. Lexa had managed to catch herself halfway on the platform.

“You idiot!” Clarke exclaimed. “Why would you do that if it hurt that much?”

“You. _Told_. Me. To!” Lexa replied through clenched teeth.

“Of all the stupid ass...moron...” Clarke mumbled to herself as she held up Lexa's shirt and quickly undid the wrappings to inspect the wound. It was still intact, very red and irritated with some swelling, but that was all part of the normal healing process.

She exhaled, relieved, and wrapped Lexa's stomach securely again.

Lexa watched her the whole time.

“I told you that you needed to _rest_ ,” Clarke said, annoyed. “You're overdoing it. My arm is killing me too and I'm not the one who went though a gauntlet of _death_ two days ago!”

“There is a narrow window of time,” Lexa replied slowly, breathlessly, “for the things I must take care of.”

The pain was taking a lot out of her.

“Opportunities to act on before the window closes. I cannot stop. I cannot show weakness.”

“So you'll just be a hero until you suddenly drop dead because you didn't take care of yourself?” Clarke shot back heatedly.

“I must appear strong!” Lexa countered. “I will die if I do not!”

“You'll _die_ if you keep acting like you weren't nearly fatally wounded!”

“Then I die with honor!” Lexa shouted.

Clarke was so furious, so angry, so fed up with all of Lexa's idiotic notions.

So she took Lexa's face in her hands and kissed her hard.

It was full of passion and fury and Lexa uttered the softest sound of surprise at the sudden onslaught. She recovered quickly and returned the ferocity of Clarke's kiss in kind.

Lexa's lips were soft and full. Clarke showed no mercy as she took Lexa's mouth. She only demanded and Lexa was all too eager to comply. They met again and again in a frenzied desire, needing more every second, deepening it, reveling in each other... She sucked hard on Lexa's bottom lip before sweeping in again to meet her tongue, tasting her. Clarke marveled at how right their lips seemed together, how perfectly they seemed to fit.

It had none of the gentleness of the first they shared, but instead every bit of the desire they'd held back.

Kissing Lexa took her breath away and yet somehow it gave her a new way to breathe. It was intoxicating, _arousing_ , and achingly wonderful.

But as quickly as she had started it, Clarke broke the kiss and stumbled away. Her eyes were wide and glassy as she reeled from the sheer intensity of it.

From just how _good_ kissing Lexa felt...

Lexa looked equally dumbfounded with her slightly kiss swollen mouth and heavy lidded gaze.

“I'm gonna...” Clarke mumbled, keeping her head down so she didn't meet Lexa's eyes, “I'm just gonna go find...um...Enock...and...” she swallowed audibly, “have him bring you something for the pain. I'll-I'll be right back.”

She started to rush off, but turned back awkwardly for a moment. “Don't go anywhere.”

Lexa didn't seem to have any such plans because she was shaking her head and stared out one of the small openings where the windows weren't covered. Clarke, quite literally, fled the room.

* * *

 

Lexa grunted again and Clarke ducked under her good arm to support more of her weight as they went up the steps together slowly.

Enock had brought Lexa some salve for the wound as well as two kinds of pain relievers for her to ingest. One was a light dose, the other would knock Lexa off her feet if she needed it.

Clarke decided Lexa was definitely going to need it the minute she was back into her bed, whether Lexa agreed or not.

She had followed Enock back into the war room, staying half behind him because she honestly had no idea what she was going to do around Lexa anymore. That kiss had been...unexpected.

_And mind blowing._

But she wasn't going to think about that.

She'd just been frustrated and sleep deprived and her body was still recovering from the shock of the transfusion. Her head wasn't all there. That was all. It didn't have to be a thing.

_But, God, how she wanted it to be a thing._

_A very big thing._

_With lots of...things._

_Shut up, Griffin._

Lexa seemed to be of a similar mind as they interacted with a mild awkwardness and focused mostly on Enock – which made Enock really uncomfortable. After Lexa had some time for the pain medication to kick in, Enock offered to help Lexa back to her apartment, which Clarke was grateful for. But just as they were leaving the room, a few young Seconds ran up to him, asking for his help in what sounded like an accident during training.

Lexa, of course, gave permission for him to go, and Clarke took his place under Lexa's arm.

Which is why they were walking up a seemingly endless flight of stairs now and Lexa was getting woozy from the effects of the medicine. Clarke was doing everything she could to focus on the task at hand and not how delicious it felt to have Lexa's warm, soft body pressed against her so intimately. She couldn't think about how close their lips were again and how easy it would be to just lean in and taste her again.

No, she definitely could not think about things like that.

_...why not?_

_Because this was just a fucking disaster of a catastrophe of a meltdown of biblical proportions waiting to happen, that's why!_

“I have let the war council believe...” Lexa admitted, sounding somewhat sheepish, “that I am more healed than I truly am. I don't know, Clarke...how to...manage this during this crucial...time. I'm too weak to even sit on my throne without feeling great pain.”

They had finally reached the next floor and Clarke opened the door to Lexa's suite, walking them both through carefully.

“That is why I needed you to stay. I...had no right to order you to do so, and for that I am sorry.”

Clarke looked at her, tilting her head slightly, but the softness of her expression told Lexa that she had accepted her apology.

“I couldn't let anyone else see...me like _this_. I planned to send for Enock, but they would have all known... Then you arrived, _unexpectedly_ , and I...” she trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

They had reached Lexa's bedroom and Clarke helped her down gently onto the bed. She arranged the pillows so that Lexa could recline and when she finally got to lie back, the pressure on her wound eased, she exhaled with great relief and let her head fall back.

“Enock gave you the same thing for the pain before the ride to _Polis,_ ” Clarke said. “But he told me you refused it this morning. Why?”

“It clouds the mind. Judgment is affected.” Lexa said, as though it were obvious. “I could not risk it while facing the war council.”

“So you risked passing out in front of them instead?” Clarke replied dryly. “Good plan.”

“I would _never_ lose control of myself like that in front of them.”

“Just me then?”

“I did not _pass out,_ Clarke.” Lexa's nostrils flared in annoyance.

She chuckled. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

“You're trying to upset me on purpose. Why is this a game to you?”

“I'm just going with the flow here,” Clarke feigned innocence, holding her hands up. “I'm an outsider, remember? _Splita_. _Skaikru_.”

“What you _are_ is utterly infuriating,” Lexa mumbled darkly.

“The feeling is mutual, Commander.” Clarke smiled and pulled one of the blankets over an increasingly sleepy Lexa.

Kiss or no kiss, Lexa had sucked her in.

Clarke wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be let out.


	17. Hungry

Lexa seemed to be dropping off and Clarke was grateful because the girl desperately needed some proper rest and sleep to help her heal.

When she moved to leave, Lexa's eyes flew open again, and she struggled to wake herself more.

Clarke felt like slapping her. “Why won't you just--!”

Lexa cut her off unapologetically. “We must eat.”

“What?” Clarke stared at her blankly.

“I am hungry, Clarke. Are you not hungry?”

The way she looked at her sent a warm thrill through Clarke's body. Lexa was not talking about food.

“Yeah...” she said hoarsely, clearing her throat as she tried to regroup. “I'm a little hungry. I guess? Wait, you're not expecting me to _make_ you dinner, are you?”

Lexa laughed quietly. “No, I do not expect you to make my meals, Clarke. I was hoping that you would join me for one.”

“Oh.”

“Is that an imposition? If you wished to be alone or to go out and explore the city, I would arrange for you to have a guard to--”

“No, it's fine. W-we can have dinner together.”

Lexa nodded, pleased, and shouted for one of her attendants. They arrived at the door at once, making Clarke wonder how they were so close by and yet she never managed to see them unless she was in need of something. The woman nodded quickly to whatever it was that Lexa was saying in rapid _Trigedasleng_ and disappeared so they were alone once more.

Clarke stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She wasn't sure where to sit, what to do with her hands, or what to do about anything because all she could think about was the way that Lexa had looked at her, that kiss, and how badly she wanted to do it again.

“Sit, Clarke,” she said, gesturing to an empty chair that was by the door.

Clarke brought it over to the bed and sat down next to her.

“I should not have spoken to you so harshly before,” Lexa said, looking down at the furs on her bed.

Clarke shook her head. “No. You were right. I shouldn't have just barged in the way I did. I acted without thinking. It's...it's not like it was before. None of this is. I think I had this idea in my head that we were just going to pick up where we left off, I kind of fell right into it before remembering how it's all changed. It's impossible to try and go back anyway. It wouldn't work even if we tried.”

“It could work,” Lexa protested slightly.

“In another way, maybe...” Clarke agreed - tentatively.

“Eight of the twelve clan leaders are dead.”

Clarke wasn't at all fazed by Lexa's quick change of topic. She'd been expecting it. Or maybe hoping for it... They'd been able to share all their plans, their thoughts, their worries before it all fell apart. She missed having that. She missed being able to share things with someone who understood her.

“Dead because you ordered it?”

Lexa gave a slow nod.

“What will happen now?”

“I have been planning this for some time. Long before the Sky People arrived. Once the clans were united, I started looking for new leaders to take their place. I just needed time to prove that the coalition worked and that whoever was put in power next, they needed to be the kind of leader who would fight for it. They will have seen how it has achieved peace. They will know for certain that it is a better life for our people. They will not cling to the old ways as the others did and they will not bear a grudge towards me for my... _encouragement_ regarding the coalition.”

Clarke could imagine just what Lexa's _encouragement_ looked like.

“The clan leaders aren't reincarnated?”

“They are, but not in ways that destine them to lead. That is for _Trikru_ and _Azgeda_.”

“Now that they're dead, you're going to name these people you've handpicked as the new leaders?”

“In theory, yes, but it's not as easy as that. Each nation retains their own ways, their own laws, but one of the crucial terms of the coalition is the agreement that my word would be the final judgment in matters regarding inter-politics of the clans. I can put someone forward, a recommendation if you will, but they must also have the approval of the people. I chose wisely and I expect that they will, for the most part, be accepted. But there will be some resistance from those loyal to the old order. This is why it is crucial for me to show strength now. I must prove that I was right to win my trial and that they were right to die for putting me there. If my judgment is not trusted...I will lose control and the coalition will fail.”

“Didn't Nia claim she was following the law? How can you say they were right to die if it was a law that put you on trial?”

Lexa bristled at Nia's name. “The particular law that the clan leaders referenced was meant to apply to the most extreme of circumstances. A leader with fatal illness. A leader who has committed great atrocities. It was never meant for what they did. Yet, the Queen was smart to step up before the rest of them and swear fealty. She knew that if she survived the first attempt at assassination, I would not be able to attempt it again.”

“Why not?”

“I did not _officially_ condemn the clan leaders to death. It looks as though they were attacked by the mob, trampled beneath their feet. An accident.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “But no one actually believes that...”

Lexa nodded again. “What they know and what they can prove are two different things, Clarke. What they know is to fear me and what they can prove is that bad things happen to those who oppose me. Nia escaped in time and since she has publicly sworn her allegiance, I cannot, in good faith, have her eliminated. The rest died while opposing me. She lives and, in the people's eyes, is loyal.”

“Will you have to leave _Polis_ to put all this together?”

“No. There will be large parties from the eleven clans arriving here in the next few days so that we can perform the ceremony required to have the new leaders anointed. I _should_ have traveled to each nation, addressed them each separately, but I promised you I would rest, Clarke. I do not wish to break another promise to you again in this life.”

The unexpected tenderness in her words threw Clarke.

“That sounds like a start.”

“Is it?” Lexa ventured tentatively.

“Well, we've already admitted to being willing to kill each other. I think that's a sign of a very healthy relationship.”

Lexa was unamused. “Mockery is not the prod--”

“...product of a strong mind, Clarke,” she finished for her exasperatedly, but there was some amusement to it as well. “So you've said. Who told you that in the first place, anyway?”

Lexa turned away. “Anya.”

Clarke's ears turned up at the familiar name.

“It sounds like she raised you.”

“I was very young when I was called,” Lexa admitted, “but she prepared me well. She was...very good to me.”

Clarke didn't miss the sadness in her voice.

“She kind of hated me and it was definitely... _complicated_...with us, but I changed her mind towards the end. She saved my life at one point. She also slapped me in the face with mud and beat me with a rock and pulverized my face with her fist...”

Lexa smiled. “Sounds like you two got along much better than I imagined. She wouldn't have stopped to beat just anyone.”

“I feel honored then,” Clarke replied dryly, but smiled as well.

She did feel honored to have been able to stand toe to toe with Anya, the woman that Lexa so obviously cared for and admired. It made her that much more saddened by her death. Despite their very...very _rocky_ relationship, Anya had been the first sign of hope for Clarke that there was a way to live with the Grounders, to co-exist, without it meaning war. She'd been a fierce enemy and she would have been a powerful ally.

“She really did beat the hell out of me, Lexa," Clarke admitted. "We both did a job on each other. I was in the medical bay for days. My own mother barely recognized me.”

“You lived,” Lexa said simply, shrugging.

Clarke was indignant. “I had to try _really_ hard to make sure that happened! She definitely wanted to kill me, I promise you that.”

“Anya meant for you to live,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It is one of the reasons why I was willing to hear you when you first came to me – when you gave me one of her braids. You still had many cuts and marks of a fight on your face. When you told me she was gone...I knew that there was more to it. No one had fought Anya and lived before if she did not intend it.”

“You're saying there's no way I could have beaten her fairly?”

“Did you?”

Clarke scoffed. “I held my own, thank you very much." Then she wavered and reluctantly admitted, "Okay, so there _might_ have been a tranquilizer dart involved...but I had her! I even managed to tie her up!”

She caught herself at once and winced visibly at how bad that sounded. She braced herself for Lexa's anger, but it didn't seem to bother the other girl. Lexa was smiling in pleasant nostalgia, but her eyes slowly darkened with memory.

“Do you miss her?” Clarke asked softly.

“She would have been a good asset during this upheaval with the clans. She always knew...” Lexa stopped herself with a forced exhale. “Grief is useless, Clarke. The dead are gone--”

“...and the living are hungry, I remember.”

Lexa seemed surprised that Clarke remembered her words so clearly.

“But I also know you better now," she pushed slightly. "It's okay to admit you miss her, Lexa. And not just for her political savvy or her _tactful_ methods of negotiation...”

"How did she die?" Lexa asked abruptly.

Clarke felt the uncomfortable stone of guilt in her stomach weighing her down.

"It was an accident," she said somberly. "Anya was on her way back to you. She was going to convince you to talk to me."

Lexa pressed her lips together tightly, meeting Clarke's gaze, and just when it looked like she was going to say something, one of the attendants arrived carrying food for them both, and Lexa turned her attention away. Clarke was relieved she didn't ask for more details. Lexa knew without having to be told outright that it was the Sky People who killed Anya, but Clarke didn't want to relive that memory any more than Lexa wanted to talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did everyone love the s3 premiere???


	18. Learning to Talk

Clarke smiled thankfully at the man who handed her a plate of something hot and smelled delicious. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she actually hadn't eaten a proper meal in a while. Lexa was given a tray and the attendant poured them both a generous amount of fresh cold milk into two cups and left the jug on a nearby table before silently taking his leave.

They ate in silence for a moment and Clarke couldn't help but stare at Lexa, replaying their kiss in her mind. Over and over again. She felt like launching herself across the short space between them and taking everything Lexa had to give. But she couldn't do that. Yet the kiss wouldn't leave her.

It was driving her completely out of her mind. She needed a distraction. They were alone with no one to judge them, no one to put on airs for, no battles to plan, none of their people in immediate danger... They had an actual moment together now. Maybe this was her chance to talk with Lexa.

Could they even do that? Just talk? Without it being about lessons in leadership and the urgency of survival?

“How long exactly have you been the Commander?”

Lexa eyed her for a moment, seeming deliberate something internally, before she accepted what Clarke was doing. “I was eight when I was called.”

“Eight?” Clarke gaped at her.

“I still had much training to complete and had much to learn, so I didn't actually assume command until a couple years later.”

“God, how old are you even, Lexa?”

She had to think about it for a moment before replying with an unsure, “Seventeen?”

“You've been the Commander for the last nine years!” Clarke leaned back, gobsmacked.

“This is unusual for your people?”

“Yes!” Clarke said with an incredulous laugh. “I used to think they were harsh for imposing the death penalty on us when we were eighteen.”

Lexa seemed confused so Clarke elaborated.

“Eighteen is the age my people consider adulthood. That you are a fully grown person, responsible for your actions, and no longer a child in need of protection.”

“My people can live an entire lifetime in those years.”

“I'm starting to see that... So, the coalition, I thought you put it together?”

Lexa nodded.

“But it's been in place for, what, five years already? You're not seriously trying to tell me that you--”

“Brokered peace between the clans five years ago, yes,” Lexa replied, confused as to why this was a surprise to Clarke.

It was basic math.

Clarke simply stared at her, wide-eyed.

“These numbers seem to be of great importance to you. Why is that?”

“Lexa! You were a _child_!”

She tensed. “I was not a child, Clarke. I was young, yes, but I had been training my entire life up to that moment. It is not so unbelievable.”

“It's a bit unbelievable to think of all those hulking giant lieutenants of yours taking orders from a twelve year old.”

“It was their duty.”

“Yes, I know _that_. I just meant...” Clarke sighed fondly at Lexa's obliviousness. “Nevermind.”

“The _Azgeda_ , however," she mused, "they proved to be far more difficult...”

“How so?” Clarke licked her fingers, thoroughly enjoying this meal as well as the conversation. Lexa was many things, but _boring_ certainly wasn't one of them.

“Well, they were the last to join the coalition, yet they are the second largest nation. Their lands span across thousands of miles. They are powerful and they _know_ it. It was only...perhaps a year ago that we finally made peace.”

Clarke was sorely tempted to ask, but she didn't want to spoil the good thing they had going now. She swallowed the remainder of her dinner and put the plate aside.

Lexa seemed prepared for it anyway. She had finished her food as well and handed the tray to Clarke for her to put on the table.

“I know what you are thinking, you wish to ask me about Costia.”

“We don't have to talk about it--”

“I was sixteen when Nia took her from me.”

So it _was_ Nia... The question had been burning the back of Clarke's mind ever since Lexa mentioned her the first time when they were by the river.

“It was a desperate attempt to break the coalition by forcing my hand into violence or being able to uncover a secret that would lead to my demise. She failed. I faced her army on the battlefield and we were victorious. When the Queen was brought to kneel before me, I offered her the chance to live – if she would join the coalition and agree to peace. I spared her life...so that my people would know a better one." Lexa's voice was raw. "I forfeited my right, _Costia's right_ , to vengeance for the sake of our people. And there are some days when I do not regret that choice...though they are few and far between.”

Clarke was shell shocked. The amount of pain and willpower it must have taken to let this woman live when she had tortured and murdered someone that Lexa loved so deeply...it was unthinkable.

She didn't know truly how much Lexa loved Costia, but if it was anything like what she felt for Finn, or more, she knew some part of that pain. Finn wasn't innocent like Costia. Lexa didn't capture him to learn secrets about Clarke. He was killed for his crimes. He was responsible for the deaths of eighteen people. Even knowing that...it didn't make his death any easier. It didn't make what she had done any easier. But for some reason...she had never blamed Lexa once for Finn. Not like Raven did. Or Bellamy. Or Octavia.

It had been justice. Brutal, merciless, justice. And Clarke had spared him the most pain she could.

It was never Lexa's fault that Finn was on that pole.

However, Nia's actions were selfish and cruel. She took an innocent life and tormented Lexa with it.

The fact that Lexa had enough strength to let her live made Clarke feel for Lexa that much more.

“...I'm so sorry...” she said in barely a whisper.

What else could she say?

“Justice will be done one day, I will see to it,” Lexa continued, strained, with a solemn nod. “But my duty is to my people and until then...I must wait and Nia must live. If I had killed her, the cycle would have started anew. The next leader of the _Azgeda_ would be forced in their duty to bring justice for the death of their Queen. You see? Had I struck her down with my blade that day, we would be embroiled in a violent and bloody war with the Ice Nation right now.”

“I do see.”

"Even after all this, that war might still happen..."

"You won't let that happen," Clarke said sternly.

They lapsed into silence for a long while.

“You've given up so much for them, Lexa – your people," Clarke said softly. "They'll never know how much you've done for them, not really.”

“They aren't meant to know. You understand that as well as I do.”

Clarke nodded dully. “We bear it so they don't have to.”

She hated herself for saying the words. Every time.

The image of Dante falling to the floor, blood seeping from his chest, appeared before her eyes and she visibly recoiled.

Lexa scrutinized Clarke for a long moment before she said, “Someone told you that.”

Not a question, just a statement. Clarke could only nod, regretting having ever brought this up.

“Who?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Despite your levity before, I believe you were right when you said we are being honest with each other now...that it is the best thing for us.”

“You mean when I said we were honest about being willing to let each other die? _Great_.”

“In the world we live in, Clarke...it seems to be a necessity. Honesty is the only way.”

She exhaled harshly. “It was Dante Wallace. The president of Mount Weather. He...he justified his actions against your people and mine. I asked him to stop, to let us find another way to help them, to save us all, but he didn't think it was possible. He said that he had to do terrible things for his people to live. He...he was never going to stop. I shot him.”

Clarke tasted copper in her mouth. Like blood.

“I shot him to prove to Cage that I was willing to do terrible things too. But instead of _listening_ and letting my people go, he...”

Clarke's voice wavered and Lexa remained very still as she waited.

“He strapped my mother to a table and put a drill in her leg. Then I killed them all.”

The meal Clarke had happily devoured was turning on her as she felt her stomach revolt in that oh-so-familiar sickening way. The same feeling she carried every day since that day.

Clarke stood abruptly, running her hands through her hair. Why did she start talking about this? Why did she let Lexa bring her back here again? All she wanted was for it to _stop_. Being able to focus on Lexa, on helping her, being angry at her, feeling for her...it'd been a better distraction than the swill she drowned herself in for months.

But it wasn't working now.

“It is our burden as it is our burden to lead and to make choices no one else can make,” Lexa said, her voice steady and deep behind her.

“Victory stands on the back of sacrifice,” Clarke echoed Lexa's words, turning back to her. “You didn't just mean other people's lives.”

Justice for Costia had been one of those sacrifices.

Lexa's heart had been a sacrifice.

Clarke's innocence had been a sacrifice.

“We all make sacrifices,” Lexa said. “Leaders are forced to make the worst ones.”

“But this is was what you born for, right? No one else would be able to do it the way you have.”

“Nor you.”

Clarke moved around the room restlessly before splaying her hands against the wall and resting her forehead against the wood.

“I can't do it again, Lexa,” she said in barely a whisper.

“You are capable of far more than you know. Everyone's time comes eventually, Clarke. A time will come where you will be pushed to lead again and you will take it.”

“You can see the future now?” She pushed off the wall with a huff. “Is that one of your powers as _Heda_? You and Ford must get along famously.”

Lexa simply nodded, unfazed by her bitterness. “Ford is an interesting and useful ally to have.”

“Ally?” Clarke looked at her in confusion. “She's a nomad. She's not supposed to be allied to anyone.”

“Everyone has their roots, Clarke. No matter how hard they may try to forget them."


	19. Power

Lexa could barely keep her eyes open after that, but she never said a thing to signal the end of the night. So it fell to Clarke to insist that she take the stronger medication that Enock prepared and sleep soundly.

Lexa wasn't really in a position to argue so she took the medicine while under Clarke's watchful eye and they finally said goodnight.

It felt strange to be leaving Lexa alone to go back to her own room in solitude. It had only been a few days, but Clarke was getting used to wanting...

_Stop it._

She didn't sleep well. Her nightmares were ever present and she woke each time with her heart thundering and her palms sweating. She had to wait for a while before the adrenaline - the fear and panic – that flooded her body finally faded enough for her to attempt sleep again.

Then she would wake an hour later and the cycle began anew.

Would she never have peace?

A large part of her wanted to slip back into Lexa's room. Just to be near her like before the night of their reunion by the river encampment. But she knew even that wouldn't be enough.

Maybe Enock could give her something for the pain too.

* * *

Sleeplessness aside, Clarke liked this new development of how she was able to just _talk_ to Lexa. It had been a good idea and she wanted to try more of it. It didn't mean that she didn't still catch herself staring at Lexa's lips, or admiring her sinfully hard abs whenever she changed the wrapping for her wound, or that she didn't feel the strong draw of desire coursing through her body at any shared touched, or that she ever... _ever_ stopped thinking about kissing her.

But it was a good distraction and Clarke really enjoyed learning more about Lexa.

The next day, after their dinner, she hardly saw Lexa at all. The Commander was holed up in the war chambers for hours, allowing people to seek an audience with her, discuss plans, make arrangements for the large parties coming to represent each nation at the ceremony where the new clan leaders would be named.

Clarke didn't mind being on her own, if it could really be considered “alone” because Lexa had guards shadowing her every move.

“For your safety, Clarke,” she had explained. “You were already in danger after the Fall of the Mountain and now, after what you did for me in the arena, there is a target on your back and I have heard reports of a price on your head.”

“What else is new?” Clarke had replied flippantly, but she took Lexa's words of warning to heart and took care as she ventured out into the city a little. Never going too far from Lexa's stronghold.

That night, Clarke had just dozed off when she heard the loud stomps of boots on the stairs outside of Lexa's suite. She threw off the blankets and opened the door for them just in time. Lexa was unnaturally pale and leaning on Enock who was all but carrying her. Clarke immediately stepped under her other arm and helped Enock maneuver Lexa into her room and sat her down on the bed.

Apparently, Lexa had waited until all her people had left for the night until she allowed Enock to help her back to her room.

“It was necessary, Clarke,” Lexa said tiredly.

“I didn't say anything,” she replied tightly.

Enock lowered his head in deference to Lexa, knowing he'd been dismissed with Clarke taking over, and exited the room without a word.

“Your face says it for you.”

Clarke pulled away the bandages and was inspecting Lexa's side before she checked the still healing cut on her arm.

“Stop looking at my face then.”

“That is not a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

Clarke's cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. Her mouth dropped slightly from the shock of hearing Lexa _flirt_ with her so casually. Lexa only grinned cheekily before laying down and promptly fell asleep before Clarke had even finished redressing her wound.

Clarke shook her head fondly. The smile wouldn't leave her for some time.

It seemed Commander Lexa had some game.

* * *

 

Clarke was fascinated by _Polis_. Every day, she dared to venture out just a little further before Lexa's men started to get antsy enough to _request_ that she go back. That was the funniest part of all of it. They would _request_.

Clarke had never known Grounders that would ask as politely as they had been doing. Lexa must have threatened to roast them alive if they tried to commandeer Clarke. She learned from her mistake after the mishap in the war chambers and now whoever accompanied Clarke treated her as an honored guest, not a prisoner, or one of Lexa's subjects.

They hated every single solitary moment of it and it read on their faces despite their tolerant, clipped tones.

“Clarke, the day grows late and we are further from the safety of the Commander's residence than advised. Might we escort you back to a better guarded area?”

It took everything she had not to burst out laughing in his face.

He looked like he would have rather been flayed alive than to speak to her like that. It was utter agony. Not to mention a form of humiliation. It wasn't because Clarke was a woman or even because she was _Skaikru._ It was because what Clarke knew as formal politeness was actually near subjugation in Grounder culture. “Politeness” just wasn't a part of their ways.

Lexa must have really terrified them.

The thought oddly made Clarke smile from ear to ear.

“We can head back,” she said, though he had already turned away and was angrily storming off ahead, shouting commands to the other guards nearby that had taken up posts, in addition to the two that stayed by Clarke's side.

* * *

It had been a huge battle for her to leave the stronghold that day. Lexa's scouts had returned with reports of growing discontent regarding Clarke's presence.

“You should not leave the building until the ceremony is over and the clans have left. All eleven parties have arrived and taken up residence across the city. It is recklessly dangerous for you to show yourself in public.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can handle it. I'm not going to hide like a coward, Lexa, and I am going to lose my mind if I have to be cooped up in here for days on end. There must be some way for me to go out without having someone trying to bag and tag me.”

“Clarke, they either want to capture you and force you into servitude or they simply want to _kill you_ ,” Lexa stressed. “It's not just about the danger you pose to them anymore, it's about what you can offer them as well.”

Clarke's brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? What would I _offer_ them?”

Lexa moved closer. “There is a power vacuum in the chain of command and it grows with each day that there is no official leader in place. I'm working as fast as I can. Two of the new clan leaders have already had attempts made on their life. Everyone is reaching for power and you are a striking symbol of it, _Wanheda_.”

Clarke was getting really tired of that title. “What does them wanting power have to do with me?”

“You have made a name for yourself with all that you've done since arriving on the ground, Clarke. My people believe that strength can be given to them from others. If they capture you or kill you, they believe that it will allow them to take your strength and command Death themselves. It would convince the people that they are the strongest leader and give them the right to rule. Whoever manages to take you, they would gain the support of the people. If it is the Queen, or someone like her, they will use that power to break the coalition and overthrow me.”

Clarke frowned, trying to take in the whole concept which was so terribly foreign to her. _Absorbing her power_? They believed they could steal the black stain of death imprinted on her soul and keep it for themselves? If such a thing were possible, she would throw herself at them. They wanted this sickness? They wanted this pain? They could have it.

If only it didn't require her death in the process...

“There's nothing I can do about people wanting to kill me, Lexa. I've lived like that from the moment I stepped foot on the ground. Longer, actually. I'm not going to hide. Can't you just...give me some sort of _Trikru_ symbol to wear? Make people believe that you've already captured me and you're wielding this so called _power_ of mine or something?”

This all sounded so ludicrous...but she had to try and reason out some way that didn't involve her being locked away in fear of an attack.

“It's not like you guys have uniforms, but there must be something to show everyone whose side I'm on? That way no one can try a public assassination without it being seen as a direct attack on you. You've told everyone that I'm a guest from the Sky People, but if I publicly side with _Trikru_ , does that make it pointless to kill me? Can they have _Wanheda_ if you've already claimed her?”

“You...you would do that?” Lexa stuttered. “Mark yourself as _mine_?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.” Clarke shrugged, not picking up on the vulnerability in Lexa's voice. “Not for _real_ , obviously, but just so I can go for a walk without having someone trying to chop my head off.”

“Yes, of course.” Lexa inhaled sharply, looking away. “Perhaps it would help...to some extent, but it wouldn't nearly be enough to stop them. Make no mistake, Clarke, you are in great danger being here. Even with these added measures. Are you sure you won't reconsider--”

“Nope.”

Lexa glowered at her. “Very well. I will increase the numbers of your protective detail and you will wear my hood.” She removed the red cloth from around her neck and wrapped it over Clarke, adjusting the hood so it hid most of her hair. “The people will recognize it and--”

“Will they think we're together?” Clarke asked casually. Or, at least, she was trying to make it _sound_ that way. “That you've taken me as your lover or something?”

Lexa hesitated before allowing a single nod.

“Looks like I'm a kept woman now,” Clarke quipped. “I could get used to that.”

Lexa watched her as she found a looking glass and fiddled with the hood, seeing how it looked. Clarke never saw the longing in her gaze.

* * *

The large squad of warriors following her every move was annoying, but Clarke saw the way some of the people in the city looked at her. With such open hatred. It was a firm reminder of why it was necessary for her to be flanked by guards, even if they resented having to watch over her. If anything happened to Clarke, it would mean death for them, so as much as they hated their assignment and Clarke hated never being alone for a solitary moment outside the walls, it was a necessary evil for all of them.

The majority of the people in _Polis_ welcomed her. Many would approach her just to thank her. At first, she'd shied away from such gratitude in the same way she had in Litta's village. But, on her second day of exploring, she went to their central marketplace, and a little boy ran up to her. One of her bodyguards grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and was about to haul him away before Clarke called for them to stop. The boy was unfazed by the treatment, it was normal to him, and he just smoothed his shirt down before handing Clarke a small bundle of twigs. She knelt before him to accept it and upon further inspection, saw that it was a doll. It had been wrapped tightly with black streaks resembling war paint all over it and two tiny pebbles for eyes. There were blades of straw fixed to the head to make it look like blonde hair.

“ _Nomon gon em bilaik em Wanheda baden op raitnes bro.”_

_Mother told me that the Commander of Death served justice for my brother._

Clarke could only stare at him. He didn't look any older than eight.

“ _Machop, Wanheda.”_

_Thank you._

She took a deep, steadying breath before smiling at him gratefully.

“ _Tag in ai, Klark, strik skat._ ”

_Call me Clarke, little one._

He ducked his head shyly before replying. “ _Ogud...Klark kom Skaikru._ ”

_Okay...Clarke of the Sky People._

Suddenly too embarrassed, the boy spun on his heel and was off like a shot, disappearing into the crowd. Some of the Grounders had stopped their work and transactions to watch how Clarke would react to the boy, but now that it was over, they returned to normal, practically ignoring her.

She could feel the tears pricking her eyes, but she held them back firmly.

After that, Clarke didn't refuse the people who wanted to thank her. In the process, she learned just how many Grounder lives Mount Weather had taken, over so many years. Too many.

Her chest didn't feel as tight after that. There wasn't the same weight crushing it as before. She kept the doll on a table in the room she was staying in, seeing it every morning when she woke up, and every night before she went to sleep.

Yet, her nightmares remained.

* * *

 

They were heading back as dusk fell and Clarke was looking forward to getting back to Lexa. In the last few days, they'd made it something of a routine to share their meal together at the end of the day.

Lexa was healing quickly, which meant she spent more and more time away from Clarke and surrounded by her people and the clan representatives. The ceremony was only a day away and Lexa was using every spare moment she had to practice diplomacy and keep matters civil between some very...very angry looking Grounders. Clarke only got glimpses of them here and there, but mostly she stayed away for Lexa's sake. She didn't want to be responsible for any misgivings on Lexa's part and it was true, this was not her place, these were not her people, and this was not her fight.

It was just really odd to not have something to fight for. Not to have people to worry about. No plans to make.

Clarke was adrift.

But each night she got to sit down with Lexa and they spoke about their days. Lexa would tell her about the recent developments – who was arguing with who – and Clarke would tell her about what she saw and who she met. Lexa was open to Clarke's advice and they were able to work through ideas and problems together. It was... _nice_.

Clarke found herself beginning to rely on it. Which was both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

Lexa's palace, which is what Clarke had secretly come to refer to it as, loomed before her as she made her way down the streets.

“ _HOD OP_!” the lead guard shouted and the two standing next to Clarke immediately pinned her between them as they crouched into a defensive stance, prepared for an attack.

“ _Chit yu gaf_?” he asked testily.

_What do you want?_

Clarke craned her neck, trying to see around his large body to find who he was talking to.

There was a faint reply that she didn't hear, but her guard said roughly, _“Heda sad in non Azgeda tua kru-de komba ran niron.”_

_The Commander's orders are that no one from Ice Nation or eleven clans are to approach her lover._

Clarke's whole body tensed when she heard him mention the Ice Nation, but she wasn't going to wait around like this. Useless. She pushed the guards away and stepped forward.

Queen Nia was standing in the middle of the street, flanked by her own warriors who had white war paint on their faces.

“ _Niron?”_ She raised an eyebrow, smirking at Clarke. “You collect many names, Clarke of the Sky People.”

Clarke didn't rise to the bait.

“What do you want?”

“ _Wanheda_ , it is not--” the lead guard started to say, but Clarke cut him off.

“I know,” she replied quickly. “We'll let her say what she wants and then be on our way.”

She faced Nia straight on with a look that told her she had spoken to her too.

“Well?”

“Do we really need all these people around us? I only wished to truly meet the great _Wanheda_ who defeated our most powerful enemy. There were many things happening the day of Alexia's trial and I did not have a chance to speak to you personally.”

“I'm not interested in small talk.”

She clucked her tongue reprovingly. “Don't be like that. I mean you no harm.”

“You'll have to forgive me if I don't take your word for it.”

Nia smiled and started moving closer. Clarke's protectors jumped forward, warning her away, and the _Azgeda_ warriors responded as well. There was a lot of shouting and weapons being waved about before Nia ordered her soldiers back.

Clarke had no intention of having her guards go anywhere. They stayed at her side, on edge, and prepared for any sign of aggression.

Nia stood alone and unafraid.

“The story you told at Alexia's trial was fascinating. I wanted to commend you on that show of courage. Not many would risk what you have for someone who betrayed them.”

Clarke's eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you weren't listening closely enough. Lexa never betrayed me. We worked together to defeat Mount Weather.”

“Ah! Of course. Yes. It was very conveniently done, neatly wrapped, and handed to the people who gobbled it up. Who could argue otherwise? We have your account and we have tales from people who watched it unfold. There is no proof one way or another. You were _very_ convincing.”

Clarke clenched her jaw tightly.

“But, I must ask, why did you leave your people? Or why not stay at Alexia's side? After a battle as victorious and well plotted as you claim, it is odd that you would suddenly abandon your people, as well as the Commander, to go into what most would describe as _hiding_.”

“They say or _you_ say?” she countered boldly.

“It is not just from me, Clarke,” Nia feigned insult. “I am only concerned for how it appears. You left your people, you were not with Alexia, and there are rumors of you spending your time with the nomad tribes. Many people find your actions strange and they say it is perhaps... _suspicious._ Would you not agree if you were in my place?”

“I would say it's none of your fucking business.”

Nia smiled as if that was exactly the answer she was looking for.

Clarke was one hundred percent done with this conversation. She could _feel_ the anxiety emanating from her guards the longer this went on.

“It's late and I'm hungry. Move your people,” she said harshly. “You're in my way.”

Nia nodded, but she still had that same infuriating smirk on her face. “It was an honor, _Wanheda_.”

She moved to leave, but stopped in mid-step, which made Clarke's heart skip a beat.

She turned back with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Red flatters you."

Clarke instinctively reached for Lexa's hood that lay around her shoulders before quickly putting her arms back at her side and glared at Nia, trying to project as much strength as she could.

Nia's cloak swept around her as she walked away, waving at the _Azgeda_ warriors to move on. After they left, Clarke's bodyguards dispensed with any notion of politeness and grabbed her by each arm as they ran quickly back to the stronghold.

They were more wary of an impending attack after Nia left instead of while they were talking. It seemed that her leave could have been a signal for the _Azgeda_ to attack. Clarke let them do what they needed to do as they swept the streets, moving swiftly, looking for any sign of danger.

Fortunately, they made it through safely and arrived past the first wall of Lexa's palace. Indra was by a fire-pit that had a large animal roasting on a spit. She stood up at once when she saw them and approached the lead guard angrily. She berated him for coming back so late, after dark, and demanded to know what happened.

He quickly explained and Indra's eyes widened.

She looked at Clarke. “We must go to the Commander immediately.”

Clarke could only nod.

She'd been brave in the open, unprotected streets of _Polis_. All the while knowing how dangerous Nia was and how determined she was to unseat Lexa. But now that she was back in the safe company of Lexa's army and behind well guarded walls, the adrenaline was wearing off, and what was numb before was turning to fear.

The threats had seemed so empty and distant when Lexa warned her of the danger. But now it was real. Clarke _felt_ it coming from that woman. The Ice Nation Queen wanted her dead and buried. She wanted Lexa out of her way. The way her eyes had shone in the oncoming twilight...there was madness there. She was desperate and hungry for power. Her threat was in everything she _didn't_ say.

Clarke hurried inside after Indra as they went to find Lexa.


	20. May We Meet Again

Indra went into the war chambers alone to inform Lexa of what happened. Clarke stayed out of sight until the rest of the people exited. As she waited in a small alcove, her mind was blank, and her hands wouldn't stop playing with the red material of Lexa's hood. It had fallen around her shoulders sometime earlier today, but she raised it back up over her head again and tucked her nose into the side, breathing deep.

It smelled like Lexa.

Clarke gripped the hood tighter and held it there, covering most of her face. She closed her eyes and let Lexa's scent surround her.

She was going to have to kill Nia. That was the only answer. She would have to kill Nia before Nia killed her. She knew that look, she knew that tone. Cage was the same. It was a dogmatic obsession. Cage would never have stopped. Nia would never stop.

It wasn't _what_ she said, but _how_ she said it. So easy. So casual. So cold.

_'Red flatters you.'_

Nia had a plan to kill both Clarke and Lexa. She'd started forming it the second Clarke stepped into the arena. There was no doubt in her mind. This wasn't an overreaction. By approaching her on the street tonight, Nia had openly declared her intentions for Clarke. Now Clarke had to think ahead before the real fight came to her...because the fight _always_ came to her.

But killing Nia would end any hope of the peace that Lexa had been fighting so hard for all these years. It would forfeit everything that she had sacrificed to make it happen. Not only that, but Clarke had to think of the people of the Ark. _Her people_. If she killed Nia and started a war, whether it was Lexa's war or Clarke's, the Sky People would inevitably be drawn into it. They would not be able to survive a war of that magnitude. Even if they did...how many would be left?

She should run. She should leave tonight.

If she ran, Lexa would have more time to cement the coalition, to settle the clans, to force Nia back into her place. If Nia came after Clarke, to kill _Wanheda_ and gain power, at least it wouldn't fall on Lexa.

That was a childish hope. The two of them were intertwined now, weren't they? Whatever Clarke did would impact Lexa and vice versa.

Clarke knew she wouldn't be able to go back to her people. She would have to go deep into hiding. Find somewhere far...far away. Hide her true identity. She would have to disappear. It was the only way her people and Lexa would have a chance. If she did, maybe that would throw a wrench into Nia's plan long enough for Lexa to gain the upper hand and stop the _Azgeda_ from declaring war. She'd held them off for six years and she'd only been a child then. She was the Commander with years of experience now and battle-hardened. Lexa could fix this with the Ice Nation.

Inside that room, Lexa was being presented with yet another situation where she would have to choose between her people and Clarke.

Clarke wasn't going to let it go far enough for Lexa to make that choice.

Never again.

She shouldn't have followed Indra. She should have just grabbed some supplies and stolen a horse. She could have already put some real distance between her and city walls by now. Her time in _Polis_ was over.

Clarke found herself back in Lexa's suite a few moments later. She grabbed the coat that the attendants had given her, it was heavy and lined with fur. She would stay warm enough with it. There was a bag she had for the day she went to the marketplace and she shoved a few clothing items in it. They were just a few things she'd been given to wear since her arrival in _Polis_. The knife that Litta gave her was on a table and she slipped it into the top of her boot. Lexa had given it to Clarke yesterday when they had dinner together. Their last dinner.

* * *

“I thought you might want this back.”

Clarke stared at the knife for a moment before she recognized the hilt, crudely made with young hands, but strong.

“Where did you get that?” She took it from Lexa's outstretched palm, inspecting it carefully.

She'd thought it was gone forever.

“You dropped it on the riverbed after you held it to my throat,” Lexa replied, taking a sip of her wine. “I saw the symbol on it...it's what most of the young warriors carve into their first weapons. It holds meaning. I meant to give it back to you before my trial, but my mind was...focused elsewhere.”

“Can't imagine why,” Clarke said dryly.

“Does it mean something to you?”

“A girl named Litta gave it to me,” Clarke said, a small uptick in the corner of her mouth as she remembered. “She was one of the prisoners in Mount Weather. She and her sister were the first I came across after I left my people. They took me in. They fed me. They trained me. They helped me before I was ready to be helped.”

“Are you ready now?” Lexa asked, trying to seem nonchalant as she stared at her plate.

Clarke looked up at her.

“I don't know.”

* * *

Next to the knife was the doll that little boy had given her. The last item she had in this room. Clarke hastily stuffed that into her bag as well and turned around.

Lexa was standing in the doorway.

Clarke never heard her coming. Either she was too distracted or Lexa had been purposely quiet in her approach.

Their eyes met and Clarke's heart rate sped up at once.

“Indra filled you in?”

Lexa was silent.

“I'm leaving. It's the only answer and you know it."

Still nothing.

"Are you going to try and stop me?”

Lexa didn't move.

“Good."

Clarke took a deep breath before pushing past Lexa and headed for the double doors that led to the stairwell. Her heart was beating so hard, she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She had to do this now before she lost her nerve. She might even have to run.

But she never reached the doors.

Lexa yanked her back, Clarke made a small sound of surprise, dropped her bag, and found herself an inch away from Lexa's mouth.

Clarke thought she would kiss her, but she didn't. Lexa just held her there. Not willing to let her go, not willing to cross the last divide between them.

They were both breathing hard, waiting for something, waiting for the other.

Clarke met her eyes again and this time... _this time_ she saw the longing there.

The last time they said goodbye, it had been one of the darkest moments of her life. Now they had to say goodbye again and the chance that Clarke would survive long enough to see Lexa again was even less than the last.

It was as if something broke inside of her - a wall that was destroyed. One that didn't belong there in the first place. It came crashing down around her.

She didn't want this to be the way they left.

She didn't want to leave at all.

Clarke crashed against Lexa's lips and that was all they needed to know.

* * *

 

She wrapped her arms around her while Lexa caressed her jaw with one hand and buried the other one in Clarke's hair, pulling her head closer, deepening the kiss.

She tasted so good... The way her mouth moved with hers – they fit so perfectly. How could just kissing someone make her feel like this? How had she never known?

Lexa's hands were running over her back and down her ass and thighs, grasping and pulling hard at Clarke. Impatiently, Clarke began to tear at Lexa's clothes. Lexa walked them back a few steps before shoving Clarke up against the wall, pressing into her with her body while she used her free arms to pull off her coat and shirt quickly. The delicious weight of Lexa's strong body pushing against her was almost too much to bear. Clarke palmed the small, perfect, soft mounds available to her, rolling the pebbles between her fingers almost roughly, eliciting a sharp gasp from Lexa that might as well have been her own.

Her body was flooded with need. Heat streaked through every part of her, her skin was almost feverish to the touch. The pressure coiling deep in her belly and between her thighs was unbearable. She couldn't stand another moment of them standing like this. She needed to touch her. She needed everything.

Lexa's tongue plunged over and over into her mouth, demanding, never asking.

God, how she wanted this.

Heady and delirious with the assault on her senses, Clarke moaned as Lexa dropped to her throat. Her lips were soft and full, biting at her, kissing her, sucking on her throat. She was everywhere and it was not enough. Callused hands dove under Clarke's shirt and traveled greedily across her belly and up her back. Every touch that was just a little harder, a little firmer, a little further...it was driving her mad and giving her what she craved all at once.

Clarke had never known desire like this.

Lexa pushed her knee in between Clarke's legs, forcing her strong thigh high and hard into Clarke's throbbing core. Clarke whimpered, grinding against her wantonly.

“You're not leaving,” Lexa said roughly.

Clarke spun them around and slammed Lexa none too lightly against the wall, pulling off her own shirt.

“Shut up, Lexa.”

Lexa's eyes widened slightly at the sight of Clarke bared to her, but she didn't have much more than that glimpse before Clarke brought them together again, crushing her naked chest against Lexa's. She gasped at the sensations rocketing through her body to feel Lexa pressed against her so intimately.

Clarke attacked her mouth again with a vengeance and they stumbled through the doorway to Lexa's room and collapsed onto the bed with Clarke firmly on top. She dove down into Lexa with everything she'd been holding back.

Lexa uttered such a soft, whimpering gasp when Clarke first touched her...the sound alone nearly drove her over the edge.

_Take me._

_Own me._

_Love me._

* * *

It was quiet in the room. Her heart rate had finally, after what felt like ages, was returning to normal. Somehow she knew normal was never going to be the same again though.

Lexa lay naked next to her, their bodies entwined, with only the soft glow of moonlight slipping through slatted shutters to light the room. She was ethereal. The way her face curved, the line of her kiss swollen lips, the dark, penetrating eyes that dared to peer into Clarke's very soul... There was no black war paint obscuring her, no blood spattered on skin, no dirt or ash smudged on her cheeks. She was young and so very beautiful. Clarke ached with the thought of what could have been if their life was not this one. What if they'd known each other on the Ark? What if they'd been born before the bombs and lived their lives together then? How pure it could have been. How lovely and perfect. Clarke reached out in the dark and traced soft, plumpness of Lexa's mouth, trailing down to her jaw with just the lightest touch of her fingertips. Lexa sighed contentedly and Clarke's heart broke all over again.

She would never know Lexa in any life, but this one.

This was the part that was going to break her. If nothing else had managed to do it, Clarke was sure this would be it.

Lexa pressed her forehead against Clarke's.

“Don't.”

“You know I have to go,” she whispered.

Lexa clenched her jaw, looking away from her.

“I thought this through, Lexa,” she said in a low voice, not yet willing to break the solitude that had found them there. “You know I'm right. Don't make this harder.”

Lexa turned to lie on her back, disentangling them, and Clarke forced herself to roll away. She sat up on the edge of the bed and the chill of the night air hit her cruelly. To have such splendid, wonderful warmth and comfort and to pull away from that...

“Stay.”

It had been quiet and soft, but it was clear.

Clarke couldn't let it in.

“No.”

There was some shifting behind her. “We can do this together. I can prot--”

“I don't trust you.”

Lexa inhaled sharply, her eyes closing, as she accepted the painful blow.

Whatever softness had lingered in their final moments of intimacy was gone because Clarke shattered it mercilessly.

She didn't let her see it, her back to her, but Clarke knew how much she had just hurt Lexa.

It had been just as painful to say.

Yet, it had to be done.

Clarke rose from the bed and proceeded to dress as quickly as possible. Anything to not be naked and vulnerable in front of Lexa any longer. It was going to take every ounce of willpower she had to walk out those doors. What they shared tonight wasn't the beginning of something, it was an end.

“There is nothing for me to gain from your presence here,” Lexa said, regrouping. “Nothing for my people. In fact, it would likely help matters a little more if you _were_ to leave.”

“Then why--?”

“I lost someone I loved to her before, Clarke. Do not ask me to do it again.”

She stilled.

“I can protect you if you stay. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, but if you leave, if you expose yourself to her like that...to _all_ of the clans...there is little chance you will survive it.”

Clarke finally looked at her again. Lexa was sitting up with blankets and furs covering most of her nakedness.

She was so beautiful...so _extraordinarily_ beautiful...

Lexa didn't seem to find vulnerability in being naked as Clarke did. There was strength all around her. But Clarke had never seen her as exposed as this and it had nothing to do with lack of clothing.

Lexa was baring her soul and Clarke silently willed her to stop. This wasn't right.

_Don't make me hurt you anymore. We've hurt each other too much for one life._

But Lexa didn't hear her silent entreaty.

“I couldn't protect Costia, but I can protect _you_ ,” she said, pleading. “Do not rob me of this chance to keep you alive.”

“I'm not her.”

“No. You are not,” Lexa admitted throatily. “You are _more_.”

Clarke swallowed thickly, there was a painful knot in her throat...choking her...constricting her...terrifying her...

“Me leaving is the only answer,” she said, shaking her head. “I won't stand by and let Nia attack me. If she comes for me, I will kill her or I will die trying.”

“I can--”

“You can't _kill_ her, Lexa!” Clarke said pointedly. “Not without endangering your people and plunging the twelve clans into war. You told me so yourself. If you can't kill her, how do you expect to stop her?”

Lexa had to see her side. Why was she fighting this so hard? They said goodbye in the only way they could. Lexa just had to let her go.

“Everything is almost in place, Clarke,” she insisted. “Once I have the new leaders swear their allegiance, I will turn all of our power to _Azgeda_. It will be safe. I know I have no right to ask it of you, but, Clarke... _stay_. You asked me once to trust you and I did. Now it falls to me to return it.”

“Lexa...”

“If it comes to it, I will kill Nia.”

Clarke shook her head. “You can't.”

“I _can_ ,” she replied firmly. “And I will.”

“You'd risk all of that for me? You'd risk the peace you've worked so hard for? The coalition? Everything?”

“She is challenging me openly! It is not about you anymore. I will not be seen as our rightful leader if I allow such insubordination go without punishment.”

“Would you try harder for diplomacy if she wasn't threatening my life?” Clarke pushed knowingly. “Would you do things differently if I wasn't a factor?”

Lexa waved her off. “It is useless to think of--”

“Then you're doing it for me.”

Lexa glowered at her.

“I don't want you to make that sacrifice, Lexa.”

“The alternative is your death,” she said evenly. “It is done. You will not go.”

“Is that an order?” Clarke returned scathingly, arms folded across her chest.

“An observation,” Lexa said simply. “You would have already left if you still intended to keep your plans. Instead, you've allowed me to talk you into staying.”

“I see...so you've got me all figured out?”

“Clarke--”

Clarke knelt on the bed and swallowed the rest with her lips.

“Okay,” she said softly and kissed her again. “Stop talking. I'll stay.”

“...You will?”

“I will.”

Lexa eyed her warily, but Clarke just shook her head in exasperation.

“This is going to be a mess, you know? We'll probably die anyway.”

“Death is not the end,” Lexa said sternly and then softened a little. “In any case...I do not believe it will come for us tonight.”

Clarke sat back on her haunches with a scoff. “You sure know how to lift a girl's spirits.”

Lexa sighed and reached for Clarke's hand on the bed, letting the blankets slip further and reveal more of her body.

“You desire for me to lift your spirits again, Clarke?” she inquired, a tiny quirk in the corner of her mouth.

Clarke's gaze had drifted lustfully down Lexa's glorious body, remembering how she felt beneath her, under her fingertips, the way she tasted...

“Oh and she's got an _ego_ to go with that body...” Clarke murmured distractedly.

Lexa's brow furrowed in puzzled amusement, but she pulled Clarke towards her anyway, taking her face in her hands and kissed her softly...askingly... _lovingly_.

Clarke almost cried to feel such aching gentleness. Lexa's lips was the sweetest touch she'd ever known.

She pulled away, forcing herself to smile.

“I'm thirsty,” she said, clearing her throat.

Lexa didn't seem to notice the tiny shift. Clarke covered herself well.

“There's some wine over there.” She pointed to her table where there was a jug and two cups left there from the dinner they'd shared last night.

Clarke rose at once and poured out two cups before coming back to the bed and handed one to Lexa.

“To not dying tonight?” she asked, holding her cup in the air.

“To doing more than just surviving,” Lexa corrected.

Clarke was taken aback, but she pulled herself together and nodded. They both took a long draw.

“Come back to bed?”

Clarke drank some more before setting it aside with a sigh. “I think you've found my weak spot.”

“You have many of those. You _never_ protect your flank when--”

“Not my fighting tactics!” Clarke interrupted her indignantly. “You see three seconds of a sparring session and you think you know everything. I've been getting better at--” She stopped herself. “That's not point. That's not what I was referring to.”

“Alright,” she said, drinking the last of her wine and set it down before she laid back down on the bed, stretching luxuriously. “What weakness were you referring to?”

The furs fell away and there was nothing to obstruct her full view of Lexa again. The curve of her breasts, her taught stomach, long and sculpted legs, powerfully defined arms, the roundness of her hips. Oh, Clarke could spend years getting to know each and every inch of her. Over and over again.

“I don't think I can refuse you anything when you're naked.”

Lexa grinned at that and pulled Clarke back down into the bed and wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly against her body. Clarke allowed the warm embrace and she could feel herself melting in Lexa's arms despite herself. Everything about Lexa surrounded her, filling her senses, making her heady with desire...and something else.

But she wasn't willing to allow that.

“I will not fail you,” Lexa whispered against her ear and kissed the sensitive spot just beneath it.

Clarke shivered at the gentle touch, reveling in the feeling of Lexa's lips against her skin.

“I know you won't,” she murmured. “I'm sorry, Lexa.”

“Sorry for what?” she mumbled in reply, but within seconds she had fallen sound asleep.

The small vial of strong pain medication that Enock had made for Lexa a few days ago was now empty next to the jug of wine on the table.

Clarke was gone.

* * *

 

It was dark in the stables. Clarke thought it was odd that there was no night patrol on guard. Horses were one of the Grounders most valuable possessions. Usually they had someone on duty 24/7. Her senses heightened, she took the knife out of her boot and gripped it tightly as she snuck through the stable doors into the pitch dark. She opened the paddock to her right, quietly shushing the gelding that snorted and stepped back warily at her presence.

“You are late.”

Clarke spun around just as Indra lit a torch, brightening the stables.

“What are you doing here?”

“I knew you would run, but I thought you would have been quicker about it. It is nearly dawn, you will not have much time.”

“You're going to help me?”

“Help you leave quietly? Yes.”

“Thank y--”

“I do not do it for you.”

“Well, Lexa isn't going to thank you, so you might as well accept it from me.”

Indra ignored her. “Not that one. He's injured. Come.”

Clarke followed her down the rows until they reached the second to last paddock. A massive brown stallion was waiting, seeming impatient. He was an impressive beast, a _Trikru_ war horse.

“You're willing to spare him?”

“You'll need every advantage if you have any hope of eluding the Queen.”

“Your confidence in me is overwhelming,” she muttered.

“You must leave quickly. You have wasted enough time already. Here.” Indra shoved a heavy pack into Clarke's arms. “Food. Provisions. It is enough for four days. After that, you will have to find other means.

She led the already saddled stallion out of his paddock and they started walking together out of the stables. Of course, Clarke had noticed the lack of guards, but now she knew why. Indra had sent them away so no one would witness Clarke slipping into the night.

“I can manage. I did for six months before I came here.”

“You were with the nomads and other _Trikru_. You will not have that luxury this time. If you expect to stay hidden from--”

“I know, Indra. I have to get as far away as I can. Let no one recognize me.”

“So you have a plan?”

Clarke frowned. “That _was_ my plan.”

The noise Indra made was somewhere between a bark and a pained grunt. They walked through high grass, into poorly kept grounds that seemed rarely used.

“Why were you so certain that I would leave?”

Indra didn't look at her. Her head swiveled as she kept a sharp eye out for any movement, anyone surprising them.

“The Commander's position has been greatly weakened by your presence. You saved her life in the arena, but that is all you saved. Her honor, her strength, the confidence of her people... That has dwindled to none. _You_ defeated our greatest enemy, she did not. It was only a matter of time before you figured that out.”

Clarke's cheeks grew hot with shame. She _hadn't_ figured that out. Lexa had made it sound like her position was gaining traction, that she was assuming power again. Even her slight hint to Clarke earlier sounded like she was just trying to come up with a way to get Clarke to trust her motivations.

“If you were willing to save her in the arena, even after what she did to the Sky People--”

“She didn't—”

“Attempt to lie and I will cut out your tongue.”

Clarke wisely remained silent.

“If you were willing risk all to save her then, you wouldn't stay now, not while knowing how your presence was destroying any chance the Commander had of regaining control.”

“She asked me to stay,” Clarke said, hopelessly lost. “Why would she do that if it was as bad as you're saying? I thought that's why we tried the whole “ _niron_ ” thing - so that the people would see she commanded _Wanheda?_ ”

Indra scoffed. “Claiming you as her lover was practically a resignation of her place as Commander. All of her advisers, her generals, myself...begged her not to do such a thing. She should have killed you and put your body on a spike for all to bear witness, to claim your power in front of the people. Instead she appears a lovesick child. You are _splita_ , _Skaikru_ , and _Wanheda_. To the people, _Wanheda_ now controls the Commander. It is a miracle Lexa lives still with all the clans angry as they are for her weakness.”

Clarke was speechless.

“I...I don't understand...” she stammered. “Lexa told me it would _help_.”

“It helped _you_.”

“ _What_?”

Clarke felt her heart rising into her throat.

It couldn't be true...

“ _Wanheda_ appears stronger than ever now. I do not believe the Commander expects to survive much longer. You stopping her trial was only a temporary stay of execution. But she had a chance to make you stronger. War is coming, Clarke. You are a symbol of great and terrible power. You are smart and you are strong. If you live, the Commander believes that you are our people's only chance of survival against the sea of _Azgeda_ that will break upon us. We will not have another Commander chosen in time to take lead us against it. Live, Clarke. If you care at all for the lives of the Sky People and _Trikru_ , you will live and come back to end the war, just as you did last time.”

“I don't...I can't...Indra, this is--”

Clarke's head was spinning.

“Enough!” she whispered harshly. “Daylight has broken. We will keep your absence from the others as long as we can, but soon they will notice. You will not get more than a day's lead, perhaps two if you ride swiftly enough.”

Clarke could only nod.

They reached one the far walls of the city, one that did not have a guard in its tower and no torch burned above like the rest of the entry points did.

Indra handed the reins to Clarke while she lifted the massive piece of iron that was keeping the door bolted. She disappeared through the cracked entryway and Clarke kept watch nervously. The sky was starting to lighten. She wasn't going to have much of a chance if any _Azgeda_ were keeping watch out there.

Indra returned, stating that it was clear, and opened the door wider so that the horse could fit through. She walked out past the city wall with Clarke, but stopped before they moved too far from the doorway. Indra couldn't leave it exposed.

“Go south,” she said briskly. “As far as you can. Until the air grows stifling and the wood turns to swamp and then _keep going_. It will take months for you to reach the southernmost post. If you make it that far, you will be able to trust the people there. They have no use for _Azgeda_. Follow Isaiah's Path, it is a harder journey, but less traveled. It will also be more difficult for any large parties to catch you.”

Clarke nodded and fiddled with the reins uncomfortably before finally getting the nerve to speak. “Um...you might want to let Lexa sleep in this morning. Just so you know.”

Indra's eyebrows rose, alarmed.

“She refused to see reason,” Clarke protested. “I had to get her to sleep soundly enough so that I could sneak out without her waking up and catching me.”

It was the only way she could be sure that Lexa wouldn't be able to convince her to stay. She'd been right to do it. Lexa had been perilously close to changing her mind. Neither of them could afford that.

She did the right thing.

It was a mantra she repeated over and over again in her head.

“She's fine,” Clarke said with a little more confidence. “She's just...sleeping _really_ well.”

Indra narrowed her eyes at her. “Leave now before I kill you myself.”

Clarke grabbed her arm before she walked away.

“ _Thank you_ ,” she said, stressing each syllable so that the woman would know how much she meant it.

Indra nodded once, grave and hard, before she vanished behind the door and closed it with a clang. Clarke was alone once more outside the city's great walls. She looked back for a moment, thinking of Lexa still asleep in her bed, soft and naked, achingly beautiful, her dark hair shaken loose from its braids and spilling across her back. It left her hollow to think about how Lexa would wake to discover what she'd done, that she'd lied, that she'd left her alone.

In the wake of Indra's news, it had turned into something far worse.

Their roles had reversed.

Clarke was the one leaving Lexa to die.

And Lexa knew she was going to do it all along.

She swung herself up into the saddle and dug her heels into the stallion's side. They broke into a gallop across the meadow, but Clarke stopped right before the thick line of the woods and turned them around. The city of _Polis_ sprawled before her. Smoke rose high into the air from countless fires and the quiet murmur of people rising for the morning reached across the meadow. The light from the massive torch at the main gates still glowed through the pale dawn.

Would this be the last time she saw the city stand like this? Would the war Indra seemed so convinced was coming bring an end to all this?

The end to whatever small amount of peace that existed on the ground? The end to everything Lexa had devoted the few short years of her life to?

There was nothing she could do if she stayed. Indra had been plain – her presence was a drain on Lexa. The only chance the Commander had was if Clarke wasn't there. She was doing the right thing, no matter how much Lexa might hate her for it.

She tucked the red hood underneath her coat, out of sight, and pulled some coarse blue material over her head instead to cover her hair discreetly.

“May we meet again,” she whispered.

Clarke led the horse around, put her back to the city, and canted deep into the forest.


	21. Broken

A week into her journey, Clarke finally forced herself to stop for longer than a night's rest or to refill her canteen. She had no food except some nuts and berries she'd foraged. The supplies Indra gave her ran out three days ago. She had find real food before hunger weakened her. She would have to hunt.

Litta and Mak had taught her how, but they mostly relied on the bow. Clarke only had Litta's knife. It would have to do.

There was a trading post that she passed a couple miles back. If she could kill something and bring them the fresh meat, perhaps they would trade it for meat already prepared. If she was quick enough, she could be on her way again by morning.

It was dusk when Clarke entered the house, dragging the panther behind her. It'd taken a few hours, but her bait had been effective. Her shoulder had gotten clawed pretty good, but all things considered, she was fine. It just stung like a bitch.

There was a pretty blonde woman inside. Clarke had scrubbed her face with dirt and pulled her hair back, pulling her blue hood almost completely over her eyes.

The woman agreed to the exchange and left the room to gather Clarke's provisions. When she came back, she handed her a large parcel wrapped with twine.

“ _Oyun steiks-de, ge fleiva op en ge son op._ ”

_Your meat, salted and dried._

“ _Machop._ ”

She grabbed the food and went to leave, but the woman reached out and grabbed her arm. Clarke threw her off at once, stepping back in alarm. Her hand was going to the blade in her boot, but the woman moved back, apologizing, saying she meant no harm.

Still wary, Clarke said, “ _Ai ste hos raun.”_

_I'm in a hurry._

“You will not get far,” she said in English.

“What are you talking about?”

Clarke was ready to drop the parcel and draw her knife as she looked around the room for any sign of an ambush.

“ _Wanheda_ , your likeness is everywhere.”

Clarke didn't know how to reply to that so the woman went behind the counter and came back with a crumpled, yellowed piece of paper. It was a wanted poster with her face sketched in the middle.

“They have been spreading it far and wide. Riders came from the north two weeks ago with that.”

“ _Two_ weeks?” Clarke echoed, horrified.

She'd only left _Polis_ a week ago...

It realization hit her hard.

Nia had been preparing for this – she _expected_ Clarke to run.

The dread she'd been feeling every day since she turned away from the city walls of _Polis_ was finally overtaking her. This changed everything. She didn't have a day's, she had _no_ lead. _Azgeda_ were looking for her everywhere, not just the ones with the Queen in _Polis_. They could be anywhere, in any direction. If they figured out she was heading south...Clarke was in even more danger than she imagined. She thought her departure from the city would have been a surprise to the _Azgeda_ Queen, but Nia had been _counting_ on it. She knew, just as Indra knew, that Clarke was going to run.

Oh, God.

 _That's_ why she approached Clarke so brazenly in the streets. She wanted to scare her. She wanted to force her away from the safety of Lexa and out of _Polis_ so that she could capture Clarke alone without needing to worry about the complications of confronting the Commander in her own city. She'd been played. _Easily._

Clarke wanted to dig her own grave and lie down in it to save Nia the trouble.

How could she have been so _stupid_?

And it happened against her instincts to stand and fight. Because she wanted to protect herself. She wanted to protect herself and Lexa from any chance that they would have to make a choice like the one made at the Mountain that night...

Clarke never would have considered running before. It was against everything she knew. Not just from the harsh ways on the ground, but from her mother...from her father.

“ _Dei feisnes nou ste krei os,”_ the woman said, bringing Clarke out of her thoughts and back to the trading post.

_It's not a very good likeness._

Clarke felt lightheaded.

The woman switched back to English with a sympathetic shrug, “But it is good enough. You are too easily spotted. Your hair. It's unusual among our people.”

Clarke's hand automatically went to her hood and she cursed internally when she realized it had slipped back too far without her noticing. That wasn't going to work.

“Why are you telling me this? Why didn't you just turn me in?” She held the wanted poster up that had an exorbitant number as a reward for Clarke's capture.

“My mother was taken by the Mountain. You ended the reaping,” she answered simply.

Clarke didn't have the words to reply. She'd been so honest, so sincere in her simple gratitude. Clarke couldn't think of the dead bodies entombed in Mount Weather right now. She nodded slightly, hoping that her face said what her voice could not.

The woman started to walk away, but Clarke called out to her, bringing her back.

“Then what do you suggest? I mean...why does my hair give me away? Yours is blonde too.”

The woman sighed, examining her more closely. “For one, it is brighter and unbraided. Clean. Light hair like mine is unusual to begin with.” She picked up a basket of goods and tilted her head towards the back. “Come. I have an idea.”

With no better option presented to her, Clarke put her food parcel back down on the counter and followed the woman.

* * *

Her name was Niylah. After she helped Clarke dye her hair with a particularly bright red kind of berry, she offered to clean the wound Clarke received from the panther.

“The cat got the worst of it,” Niylah said as she carefully sponged the open claw marks.

Clarke smiled, but her thoughts kept drifting.

“No kill marks,” she noted.

Clarke closed her eyes as sickness rose from deep within her. “My back's not big enough.”

Niylah didn't hear the warning in her tone. She leaned into Clarke, somewhat excited and giddy.

“Tell me about the Mountain.”

Clarke didn't want to be unkind, but if this is what she was after, it wasn't going to be a very civil conversation for long.

“There's nothing to tell. I did what I had to do...that's all.”

Niylah noticed Clarke's edginess this time and she fell silent, focusing on cleaning the wound instead. Clarke stiffened and winced when she reached a particularly deep spot.

“Sorry,” she said softly and her hand curled around Clarke's arm. She squeezed gently to compound her apology.

Clarke didn't think much of the touch until she realized a few moments later that Niylah had not let go. She looked to where the hand was now stroking her bare arm and she turned around. Niylah leaned in and pressed her lips to Clarke's, but it was only the briefest touch because Clarke moved away.

She couldn't, she thought to herself. But then...really...she  _could_ . If she wanted to. There was nothing to stop her from taking comfort in what she was now convinced was going to be her last few days on earth. 

Niylah was pretty, sweet, and kind. She was helping her. Why wouldn't Clarke want to enjoy herself?

Embarrassed by the rejection, Niylah lowered her head, focusing on rinsing out the bloody cloth in a bowl.

Her first instinct was to ignore it, to let whatever awkwardness there was, stay there. Niylah was a grown woman, she took a risk, it didn't happen. Clarke had nothing to be sorry for.

But her second instinct told her to try and be considerate, to make it hurt less somehow. Niylah was helping her at great risk to her own life, asking for absolutely nothing in return.

“I'm sorry,” Clarke said lamely, trying to figure out how to explain without explaining at all. “It's...it's not you.”

Seeming to recover, Niylah raised her eyes again and looked at Clarke knowingly.

“I have someone,” Clarke admitted finally.

_Kind of._

_Maybe._

_For a night, she did._

“The one who gave you this?” Niylah picked up the red hood that Clarke had removed for access to the scratches.

Clarke could only nod.

“With the people who are after you...it is possible you will never see her again.”

“I know.”

* * *

After Niylah finished cleaning the scratches and bandaged it, she gave Clarke extra supplies to go with the first parcel she'd handed her. Clarke could only tell her how grateful she was, she had nothing else to offer. But Niylah seemed to feel as she had given her enough.

Clarke headed west when she left the trading post. As helpful and kind as Niylah had been, Clarke couldn't risk her knowing which direction she was traveling in. It was bad enough that Niylah had recognized her and if anyone else found out about it, Niylah would be in grave danger.

After riding a mile west, Clarke turned south once more, eventually making her way back to the path Indra had advised. She'd lost too much time during the day and even though riding at night was extremely dangerous, Clarke had to chance it. She needed to make up ground. She rode slowly and when the terrain grew too treacherous to ride on unseeing, she slipped off the horse and walked them both through the dark woods.

It was nearing dawn and the sky was lightening when Clarke heard the sound of rushing water. There was a river nearby and her canteen was nearly empty.

She had just bent down to fill it when she heard a rough voice next to her say, “ _Chon yu bilaik_ ?”

_Who are you?_

Clarke froze.

“ _Non kom joken get daun_ ,” she said harshly without looking up.

_None of your fucking concern._

_"Heda kom Azgeda which in non."  
_

_The Queen believes otherwise._

“ _Ai laik non Azgeda.”_

_I am not Ice Nation._

“ _Gyon op!”_

_Get up!_

Clarke rose to her feet slowly. Her hood was still pulled low and her now red hair flowed out from underneath. Her face was still covered in the dirt she'd disguised herself with before going in to meet Niylah. Maybe...just maybe it would be enough. Maybe he wouldn't recognize her.

The _Azgeda_ warrior had three men behind him and he was holding his sword at Clarke threateningly.

“ _Non tat, em non laik Trigeda.”_

_No tattoos, you are not of the Tree People._

“ _Non skrish! Ai laik Niylah kom_ _Floukru. Ai trana sis op wada en hod op em.”_

_No shit! I am Niylah of the Boat People. I just tried to get some water but you stopped me._

It was the first clan that came to mind for Clarke, but she cringed internally. That was not the smartest choice.

He stepped into Clarke's personal space, looking closely at her face. Clarke tried not to recoil at the revolting stench that wafted over her from his unwashed body and rotting teeth.

Seeming satisfied, he grunted and told his men to move on.

“ _Yu don sin disha plan in?”_

_Have you seen this woman?_

He held up the same wanted poster that Niylah had shown Clarke, but this one had bloodstains on it.

Not trusting her voice anymore, Clarke just shook her head.

Annoyed, he stomped off, and Clarke could hear him muttering under his breath as he walked away.

“ _Joken Wanheda, pis stei em...”_

_Fucking Commander of Death, pissing me off..._

Taking a deep breath that she didn't allow herself during that entire exchange, Clarke waited until they disappeared into the woods before swinging herself into the saddle and headed in the opposite direction. They had gone south, they knew. Her only choice was to continue west.

She crossed river at a shallow apex and tried to put as much distance between her and the  _ Azgeda _ war party as she could.

By the following day, late afternoon, Clarke was feeling more confident that she had shaken them off, taking extra pains not to leave an obvious trail and stayed away from any trafficked paths.

It was all for nothing though.

It was quiet, with only the usual sounds of the woods, and then her horse reared up in a panic. War cries surrounded her and something heavy slammed into her from the side and she went flying off her mount, hitting her head on the ground, and then there was black.

* * *

Nia had sent hunters in each direction to search for Clarke. There were dozens of search parties out looking for her. Once the news of the last one reached his comrades, they all berated him for not realizing how stupid it was that someone from _the Boat People_ would be so far inland.

From what Clarke heard in snippets from her kidnappers, they'd sent riders ahead to warn the other search parties of her last location and that Clarke was now a redhead. It wasn't hard to find her after that.

Clarke had been their prisoner for three days and taken some light beatings for mouthing off, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. They weren't interested in her, only what she would bring them. They tied her to her horse, and rode day and night, stopping only for minutes at a time. They wanted to bring Clarke to the Queen as quickly as possible so that they could claim their reward.

They refused to share any food with her though and only allowed her enough water to keep her from passing out.

There was ten of them. Only one of her.

Clarke was slowly but surely resigning herself to her fate. She just wished she had been able to elude them for a little longer than she had. If only she'd been smarter, known the land better...anything.

She wondered how her mother would find out that she'd been executed. Would she ever find out at all?

Some of the _Azgeda_ hunters were talking amongst themselves right behind her as they rode their horses slowly through a rocky area. Clarke tried to listen as hard as she could, but was only getting bits and pieces of the conversation.

The scout that was sent ahead came galloping towards them.

“ _Em op hir! Ge yo ogud!_ ”

_She is here! Be ready!_

Now what she heard made sense.

Nia was meeting them halfway. From what her captors said, Clarke would be meeting Nia again very soon.

It made sense. She wouldn't bring Clarke back to Polis and risk Lexa interfering. And from the little Clarke gleaned about the _Azgeda_ capital, it was a long journey, and very isolated from the rest of the clans. If Nia wanted an audience for Clarke's execution, for word to spread quickly through the clans and back to her people, she would have to do it as soon as possible. To wait any longer would mean chancing interference from the other clans, Clarke escaping, the Sky People finding out, or Lexa.

Lexa should be safe back in  _Polis_ . She was surrounded by her army there. Hopefully the anointing of the new clan leaders had gone to plan. Clarke wondered how her people were getting by. She'd only heard a brief mention of them from Lexa, scouts saying that they were building more, exploring more, and that they rode in metal cages instead of on horseback. Clarke had smiled at that. She knew that was Raven's doing. Automobiles running again after nearly one hundred years? Of course it would be Raven Reyes to spearhead the charge.

Movement to her right brought Clarke out of her musings. At first she thought maybe it was just an animal, but then she saw the blur again. A distinctly human blur. She watched carefully as they passed by, her horse leading her down the path, but before she got too far away, she saw him. A Grounder. It wasn't a soldier and he definitely wasn't  _Azgeda_ . Clarke never saw his face, just his back as he darted away into the thicket. Her captors were too excited and chatting about the reward they would get from their Queen to notice.

* * *

They tied her to a tree and put a bag over her head. Clarke wasn't sure how much time passed with her like that, hours probably. Her legs were too weak to stand when they came back for her – they had to carry her.

Clarke wasn't sure what happened entirely or how she'd reached this point, but her mind had shut off. Slowly, she faded more and more the longer she spent in their custody. Blank. Numb. Acceptance.

She wasn't thinking about anyone or anything. The soldier on her right smelled like something had crawled out of a swamp filled with shit. The soldier on her left had a silver button sewed onto his armor, above his collar bone. There was no grass beneath her feet, just stones. Water was rushing by with such thunder, it was hard to hear anything else. The river was high today, dangerously full.

“Did you really believe you could escape so easily?”

Clarke finally raised her eyes to look up at Nia from where she was forced on her knees in front of her.

“Actually? I did. You got lucky.”

Nia didn't smile.

Clarke looked around, seeing that there were only about three dozen warriors or so surrounding them.

“This is all you brought?” she snorted derisively. “I thought you would have wanted a _grand_ audience for my death. Show off to everyone that you're so great and powerful.”

“Clarke, you have lost. You fate is sealed. Face it with grace and honor instead of this childish behavior. Your last moments should mean more to you than that.”

“I will take that under advisement. Thank you.” She nodded in mock sincerity. “Soooo...how do the _Azgeda_ execute people? Beheading? Burned at the stake? Flayed alive? Death by A Thousand Cuts? Wait. I know!” she chirped. “You _bore_ them to death. That's why you had me waiting for so long. You thought I'd just drop dead and save you the trouble!”

“Prepare her,” Nia said impassively, flicking her hand at Clarke.

The warriors rushed forward and Clarke cried out in pain as they tied pieces of rope tightly around different parts of her arms and legs. It was so tight, it cut off her circulation.

Clarke knew she should feel panicked, desperate, terrified, but instead she just felt the pain and a morbid sense of curiosity as she watched them do this.

“I know you wish for a greater audience, but I have less time than expected, so my people will do. Besides...I'll have your head put on that pole,” she pointed to a ten foot wooden spike that one of her warriors was holding next to him, “and that will be more than enough to show all the clans who has conquered _Wanheda_.”

Clarke looked at the pole and then back at Nia before shrugging. It didn't really matter much to her.

The Queen seemed slightly perturbed by Clarke's indifference and, honestly, it was surprising to Clarke too. She knew what she was supposed to be feeling right now. She knew that her emptiness was wrong. Yet, she couldn't feel anything else.

How hard had she hit her head?

“You asked how we perform our executions? Well...” Nia said, circling her as she inspected the rope work, “we do not simply bleed people as the cowardly _Trikru_. No...” She stopped in front of Clarke again and peered down at her. “ _Azgeda_ are bold. We tear you apart, piece by piece. But if you died after the first cut, that would hardly be much of a punishment, would it?”

Clarke shifted a little and she winced as the movement made the ropes bite deeper.

_Oh._

_It made sense now._

_The ropes were tourniquets._

Each place they had tied was to mark where Clarke's limbs were supposed to be amputated.

_Well...that was new._

“Which would you like me to take first?” Nia snatched Clarke's wrist and yanked it out hard, twisting Clarke's arm in it's socket. “The hands?” She motioned for the men behind her and they knocked Clarke to the stony ground. She viciously stomped on Clarke's heel, making her cry out. She held boot hard into Clarke's ankle, pinning it there. “A foot? Then a hand? Do you have a preference? Not that it matters, they will all be removed eventually...and then I will move higher.”

“Do...what you....gotta do,” Clarke said, breathing hard.

One of the warriors handed Nia her sword. It glinted in the sunlight as she brandished it in front of Clarke.

“Perhaps this is unnecessary,” she said, pretending to inspect the edge of the blade. “After all, it's not my people that you've committed any crimes against. And you did take down a powerful enemy. Do you think I should show you mercy for that? Allow you honor in your death?”

“I think you're really working hard on that _bore me to death_ method of execution.”

However, Nia's offer did make her wonder. Why was she toying with her? Why didn't she just get on with it? She had Clarke captured, tied up, helpless and alone. What was she looking for? What else did she need?

Nia's nostrils flared ever so slightly, angry with Clarke for her blatant disregard for her authority.

Maybe she didn't have everything she needed yet.

Clarke had been captured, that much was clear, but she hadn't been  _broken_ .

Nia shared a glance with someone who looked less like a warrior, perhaps an adviser, who stood at her side.

She seemed...concerned.

Clarke began to laugh. Very. Loudly.

The  _Azgeda_ surrounding her watched her with mixed reactions of worry and anger. Apparently,  _Wanheda_ laughing maniacally before her death didn't seem like such a good omen.

Clarke couldn't stop laughing and tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Nia needed to break her. She couldn't kill her without making her  _submit_ first. She would have Clarke's head on a spike, but she needed her people to see that  _Wanheda_ was truly  _her_ prize. 

If they didn't believe in Clarke's power, if they didn't believe that Nia was the only one capable of destroying her, then it wouldn't be enough for what she needed to take control of the clans. She couldn't completely break from the coalition and start a war if her people were not fully convinced that her strength was greater than that of Lexa's reincarnated spirit with the power of a hundred lifetimes of exalted leaders.

She could try and torture it out of her, which was probably the next step, but torture breaks everyone eventually. It wasn't the same. Nia needed Clarke to be  _afraid_ , to beg for her life, to show some kind of respect and understanding for what was taking place. Unintentionally, Clarke had given her nothing.

Something hard hit the back of her skull and Clarke went sprawling forward, splitting her cheek open on a sharp rock. She stopped laughing and they lifted her back up, but she was still smiling.

Nia backhanded her savagely.

The pain shot straight into her eye and she grunted, but after a moment to gain her bearings, she lifted her head again and giggled. There was blood in her mouth so she spit it out in front of her.

“ _Em ste kokem_?” she heard one of the _Azgeda_ mumble from behind her.

_Is she mad?_

It was a fair question.

Clarke wasn't entirely sure herself.


	22. Captured

What Clarke was pretty sure of was that her shoulder was dislocated. She was also fairly certain that her throat hurt from screaming so much.

Beyond that...she really didn't know.

“ _Wanheda_ , your time has come.”

“Wasn't it s'posed...'appen agess 'go?” she slurred, half unconscious from the pain.

Nia said a short command and Clarke felt like her arm was being pulled from her body. They laid her arm flat as they could over the rocks and one of them stepped on her hand to keep her in place. A blade rose over her head and she watched it, despite everything else in her that pleaded with her to close her eyes.

Excited murmurs rose from the group and a few of them cried out in alarm. A scout came running out of the woods and Nia, wary, lowered her sword. The scout ran up to her and whispered something quickly. Nia's mouth soured and she clenched her jaw.

Something was wrong.

Clarke heard the thunder of hooves in the distance. Nia and her generals starting shouting orders, gathering everyone into a defensive formation, surrounding their Queen. Clarke was still on the ground, caught in the middle.

She couldn't see anything because warriors were standing in front of her, but the roar of hooves striking the ground grew louder and louder until it was right upon them and then it quieted. Restless whinnies and stomps punctuated the silence.

“ _K_ _win kom Azgeda,”_ Clarke knew that deep voice, _“em hod op nau gon wamplei.”_

_Queen of the Ice Nation, you will stop now or face death._

Clarke's relief at hearing Lexa's voice among these savage strangers was replaced by cold fear when she was yanked onto her knees by her hair and a blade pressed deep into her throat, drawing blood.

Nia ordered her warriors to step aside just enough to create a space for Lexa to see her holding Clarke with her sword to her throat.

Clarke's vision was blurry and one eye had swollen completely shut, but she managed to make out enough to see Lexa through the gap. She was a few feet away, flanked by her guards, all sitting on horseback.

“ _Dei ste odon. Em ain.”_

_This is over. She is mine._

Nia shook her head, as if she was chastising a child. _“Yu comba raun odon-krei. Gon we, Ahleksia. Yu gonplei ste odon.”_

_You come too late. Run, Alexia. Your fight is over._

There was a loud clamor and howling war cries from the Azgeda. Clarke's ears rang from the deafening noise. They took the Queen's words as declaration of war. Even though Lexa's horse was skittish and wanted to run, Lexa didn't seem concerned.

More armed warriors appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, from the woods from behind Lexa's small battalion. Clarke's heart sunk lower than ever. The _Azgeda_ had been prepared for Lexa's arrival and they'd hidden half their numbers for this moment, and now had Lexa and her warriors completely surrounded and outnumbered. Now they were both going to die.

“ _Heda kom Azgeda en natrona?”_

_The leader of the Ice Nation is a traitor?_

“So be it.” Lexa was unnervingly calm. “You have been condemned, Queen Nia of _Azgeda_.” Her voice rang loud and true so that ever single person there would hear her. “Even _Wanheda's_ power cannot save you now. Eleven clan leaders have sworn their oath to me and to the coalition. They have agreed that it is in all of our best interests that you no longer remain Queen.”

Nia raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but the worry in her voice betrayed her. “They would never submit to that. They know it means certain death!”

Lexa's face was stone. “For _you,_ yes.”

Thwacks and cries and falling bodies filled the air. Panic and chaos erupted around her, but as soon as it had begun, it ended. There were some quiet groans of the fatally injured and mixing with short commands and shouting from far away.

The grip on Clarke's hair was released and she looked around in dizzily to see _Trikru_ stepping out from the hill line on the other side of the river and from the forest to her left. Every single _Azgeda_ soldier lay on the ground now. All the ones who had formed a circle around Clarke and she assumed the ones who tried to flank Lexa met the same fate.

 _Trikru_ in overwhelming numbers flooded the area, darting around, calling out to each other. Many held their bows out, notched with another arrow, while others had various weapons, and they scouted the area carefully, checking for anyone missed. The small pack of _Azgeda_ never stood a chance against so many.

A lot of them didn't look like what Clarke was used to seeing in Lexa's warriors. They were older, cleaner, and most strikingly, many of them did not wear war paint.

Nia was the only one who remained standing. She looked around at the bodies that lay at her feet and then back up to Lexa who had never moved from her seat atop her war horse.

“You have made a _terrible_ mistake, Alexia.”

“The mistake was yours," Lexa returned sharply. "Now you and your people will pay for it with their lives.”

Clarke tried to get to her feet, but Nia grabbed her once more in a last ditch, desperate attempt to hurt Lexa. She sliced her blade across Clarke's throat and Clarke cried at the sharp sting against her flesh, but then the hold was gone.

Clarke held her hand to her throat and then looked down at her open palm where there was only a small amount of blood staining her hand. She prodded along the cut and to her immense relief, she realized it was only a shallow scratch.

Looking behind her, she saw Indra standing with the Queen on her knees in front of her. She was holding Nia's arm, twisted and broken, behind her back with a sword to her throat as Nia had done to Clarke.

Lexa swung down from her mount and approached Nia slowly.

“Death  By A Thousand Cuts,” she announced coldly. “Worry not, Queen. I have trained my warriors well. They will certainly keep you alive to meet the dawn.”

Nia raged against her. “This means your end!” she cried. “All of your people's end! _Azgeda_ will never forget! They will never forgive! Your precious city will be razed to the ground!”

She roared and fought Indra's hold like a rabid animal, but Indra remained impassive and held her easily.

Lexa raised her chin imperiously and stared right through Nia. “ _Ai laik ogud_ ,” she said somberly.

_I am ready._

Nia snarled and cursed at Lexa with words that Clarke did not know, but it didn't take a genius to guess how bad they were.

Lexa was unmoved. “Bind her securely. Her execution will be carried out before the people.”

Indra and a few others took hold of Nia and dragged her away. Clarke watched her be taken away, but without having someone to hold her up anymore and the danger seemingly passed, she succumbed to the pain and fell forward.

Lexa was there in an instant.

“Get these...off me...” Clarke said, strained, as she pulled on the ropes cutting into her flesh. “Or I'll...lose my limbs...anyway.”

Lexa yanked out an impressive looking knife from her sword belt and made quick work of setting Clarke free. It hurt just as much to have the blood flowing again as it did to have it stop and Clarke gritted her teeth as she fought back the pain. Lexa was gently rubbing her arms, only a light touch, to encourage the blood flow. Clarke couldn't feel her legs, but she really hoped she still had them.

Breathing hard, Clarke tried to take in all that had just happened. Bodies were scattered all around them, the blood pooled and drained into the river.

She'd been captured.

She'd been beaten.

She was nearly hacked to death.

And then she wasn't.

The numbness was fading now. It wasn't blank anymore. Her consciousness was rushing back in while her body seemed to give way. She was exchanging one strength for another. Her mind had left her for her body to remain strong and now her body weakened which allowed her mind to return.

Clarke slumped against Lexa, feeling far too heavy and feeble. Her forehead pressed into the other girl's shoulder.

“ _L-Lexa_...” she whimpered, unable to get a hold of the fear coursing through her. She was trembling violently. Panic reigned inside of her and she had no idea what to do, it was consuming her.

Lexa slipped her arms around her in a fierce, but yielding embrace. She cradled Clarke against her, taking the brunt of her weight off the harsh stone bed underneath them.

“You did well, Clarke,” she said quietly. “You are safe. Rest now.”

Clarke took a deep, shuddering breath, and buried her face in Lexa's shoulder. It hurt to do even that, but she wanted to feel the roughness of Lexa's armor, to smell her, to take comfort in the solidity of her body pressing against her.

“Do you...” she tried to look up at Lexa, but failed. It took too much energy to do even that.

“What is it?” she prompted gently.

“Do you like my hair?”

She never heard Lexa's reply.

* * *

Clarke woke and found herself lying on a cot with a canvas ceiling overhead. She was in a tent with a blanket over her and something soft beneath her head. There were voices speaking lowly nearby and she had to really focus to make out what they were saying.

“Commander, we must return to _Polis_. It is not safe--”

“No.”

“Word is spreading! We have rounded up every _Azgeda_ in the city and imprisoned them. They _know_ we have the Queen. If we stay out here in the open, we are vulnerable--”

“Indra...I said _no_.”

It didn't have that usual imperiousness that Clarke was used to hearing Lexa give orders with. This wasn't harsh or clipped like her commands usually were. It was different. Instead of the hardness she would reserve for someone who made her repeat herself, Lexa was just wearily declining.

“I will stay with her myself if you ret--”

“Call for more from the capital, increase our patrols, have guards posted at every 500 meters for two miles. We already have scouts at trading posts in the north and all over the boundary to warn us of any _Azgeda_ army crossing. But I am not leaving until Clarke is well enough to travel.”

“I'm fine,” Clarke rasped and instantly regretted it.

Speaking felt like she was sticking a hot iron poker down her throat.

Lexa appeared before her at once and Clarke glimpsed Indra behind her, who met her eyes with fleeting annoyance, but she left without needing Lexa to dismiss her.

“You are not _fine,”_ Lexa said, _“_ but fortunately, you have a friend watching over you.”

Clarke looked around to see who she was talking about and Enock came up to her side.

He lowered his head in greeting.

“Do not speak, you have strained your voice," he said. "It will be better tomorrow."

He was carrying a bowl of what Clarke was sure something that smelled disgusting even if she couldn't smell it yet. He poured in out into a cup and Clarke inwardly groaned as he brought it over for her to drink.

It took her a few tries, but she eventually got some of it down without spewing it everywhere, and laid back again in relief.

“Leave us,” Lexa said abruptly, waving her hands in dismissal.

Enock bowed to Lexa at once and started to leave the tent.

Clarke glared at her.

Lexa sighed. “And... _thank you_ ,” she called out grudgingly.

“Of course, _Heda_ ,” he replied.

Enock left and Lexa looked at Clarke with raised eyebrows as if to say, “Happy?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and shifted to get more comfortable, but that movement sent waves of pain through her stiff and aching body. Having the blood flow cut off from the _Azgeda_ ties for so long had nearly cost her her limbs, but she looked down, just to make sure, that they were, indeed, still intact. Everything was hurting too much for them to be missing anyway.

Lexa saw what she was doing so she slipped her hand into Clarke's and raised it slightly. Showing her that arm was still there. Then she reached over and did the same for the other.

Clarke watched her with a piercing gaze.

Lexa removed the blanket covering her and purposefully trailed her fingers from Clarke's stomach, over her hip, and down her thigh before tapping on her boot to show that, yes, her foot was still there. By the time she leaned over and did the same for the other leg, Clarke was smiling.

“Water?”

Clarke nodded.

Lexa poured some into a cup from a nearby pitcher and held Clarke's head up while holding the cup to her lips for her to sip from. It hurt to swallow and she coughed, spitting water everywhere, but some did make its way down her throat and her lips felt less dry for it.

Lexa laid her back down and set the cup aside. She replaced the blanket over Clarke and sat down in a nearby chair.

“He said that you need at least one night's rest for your body to tolerate the ride back to _Polis_. You are staying here until then and I am staying with you. If you try to argue, I will have you bound and gagged, Clarke.”

Clarke snorted.

“You will come back with me to _Polis_ to heal and to be witness to Nia's execution.”

Her eyes widened.

_Nia was still alive?_

“I must wait to do it before the people,” Lexa answered the silent question. “And I have not been able to return yet.”

Clarke was shaking her head in vehement disapproval, but Lexa held her hand up.

“It is my decision. Disagree if you will, but you will not change my mind.”

Clarke huffed as best she could without making any actual sound.

“When you are well again, you are free to leave _Polis._ To go wherever you wish. Back to the wild. Back to your people. Anywhere. But I am not releasing you until you are fully healed, Clarke. And, yes, _that_ is a command.”

Clarke watched her for a long moment, frowning hard, before she finally relented and lifted her hand ever so slightly towards Lexa. She really wasn't in any position to refuse and it would have been idiotically stubborn to try anyway.

Lexa smiled and her shoulders slackened in relief knowing that Clarke wasn't going to fight her on this. She took Clarke's outstretched hand and held it firmly between both of her own.

“However,” she said sternly, “do not feel the need to drug me next time, Clarke.”

* * *

The night's rest did wonders for her aching body. Her cheek was still swollen, but under Enock's care, she was able to open her eye again. Her shoulder was sore and throbbing, but she knew Enock had popped it back into place while she'd been unconscious. The pain would have been agonizing if he hadn't. There were rope burns on her arms and legs, but no sign of permanent damage. She'd gotten lucky. The cut on her throat had been treated, but had already clotted and didn't even need bandaging. There was just a thin stripe of red on one side. A reminder of what could have been had Lexa not arrived when she did and if Indra had been even half a second too late...

Lexa never left her side last night. She met with several of her people while Clarke lay resting, half asleep, half daydreaming. Enock had given her some pain medication for which Clarke was immensely grateful. When she woke again, Lexa was sitting next to her, toying with a knife in her hands.

“Tell me...” Clarke croaked and swallowed painfully, “how.”

How did Lexa find her? Who were the extra people that had helped them and then disappeared once the danger was over? What happened after she left _Polis_?

“You should sleep, Clarke. We will have to leave in a few short hours. You need your strength.”

She shook her head. “I have to know.”

Lexa assented and brought her chair closer to Clarke. She told her how she had people watching Nia's every move. How they had discovered her disappearance despite the large number of _Azgeda_ that remained in the capital. She only took a small few with her to avoid detection and it might have worked had Lexa not posted several of her young trainees outside the walls under the guise of a routine lesson. In order to move swiftly, Lexa could not bring a great number as well. She too, had to avoid detection, in case any of the remaining _Azgeda_ saw fit to try and beat them there, warning their Queen.

They had been unable to track Nia because her squadron split off into three different directions and they covered themselves well. When they struggled to figure out where she'd gone, Lexa was worried they would be too late, but then a messenger found them.

Ford and the _Trigeda_ -Nomads were camped nearby where Nia had arranged the rendezvous with her hunters.

Lexa said Ford being there was not happenstance, that she had foreseen it, but Clarke was sticking to coincidence. A _very welcome_ coincidence.

One of the nomads saw Clarke bound and gagged on horseback, being led to the Queen and he ran back to inform the others. Ford sent the hunters of her group to creep up on the hill across the river and hide deep in the woods on the other side, waiting for Lexa's arrival.

“You want to know why Ford would do this when she is a sworn nomad, with no loyalty to any of the clans,” Lexa nodded in understanding at Clarke's perplexed gaze. She took a deep breath, clenching her jaw momentarily, before she exhaled. “She was born to a great warrior and a...close friend. Her father was Gustus. I have known her all my life. Gustus broke all ties with her when she left _Trikru_ to become what she is, but despite this...she has always shared his loyalty and devotion to me.”

“Does she know...?”

“That I executed him? Yes.”

“And she still helps you?”

“She understands that I did what I had to. As Gustus did. I spoke to her earlier while you were asleep. It seems she did not do this solely for me. You made an impression on her in your time with them, Clarke.”

“I was drunk.”

“That is an impression.”

Clarke made a face at her. “So the people with the bow and arrows on the hillside...they were nomads?”

Lexa nodded.

“Why would they do that?”

“Because they listen to Ford. And Ford wanted to save you.”

Clarke blew out a breath, utterly bewildered. “Why _me_?”

Lexa shrugged with a faint hint of a smile. “She claims to see greatness for you, _Wanheda_.”

“Lexa?”

“Hm?”

“Do I really have to keep being called that?”

“It is a title of great power, Clarke. It's time you embraced it instead of running from it.”

“You're annoying after you talk to Ford,” she grunted.

“Rest, Clarke. You have a few hours before we ride for the capital. You can still find me annoying then.”

She groaned softly as she turned stiffly onto her side, pulling the blanket around her tightly.

Lexa was silent again, toying with the hilt of her knife.

“You're going to stay there?”

Lexa looked up and met Clarke's gaze before giving one slow nod.

Clarke sighed and closed her eyes. “Good.”


	23. Death By A Thousand Cuts

Clarke washed her hands and splashed her face with the cool water from the river. They were riding back to _Polis_ , staying alongside the river for most of the journey. Lexa and Clarke rode side by side. About two hours in, Lexa looked over and saw how much paler Clarke was getting atop her horse.

While Clarke wasn't seriously wounded, the trauma of the last few days, more than a week of hard riding, sleep deprivation, and subsequent beatings, had taken its toll. She was exhausted, body and soul, and staying upright on a horse was proving to be a more difficult task than she cared for. Lexa called out for the whole riding party to stop and rest.

Clarke wanted to refuse on principal, she didn't want to be seen as a weak link, dragging everyone else down, but when she slipped off the horse and nearly collapsed under her own body weight, she decided to just be grateful. Lexa used the time to speak with her advisers and a new messenger had ridden out to meet them, bringing news from Polis.

Clarke wandered away from them and went down towards the water. She drank long and deep from her cupped hands, taking several mouthfuls to quench her thirst and sat down on the riverbank. It was such a relief not to have the uncomfortable heat of a horse between her legs, the endless jostling and jerky movements that felt like a direct offense to her shoulder. She had a her arm in a sling, but it barely helped. Her shoulder should be completely immobile, not bouncing all over the place atop a horse. She sighed and leaned back, resting on her good arm, letting the sun warm her face. The low chatter of the _Trikru_ and Lexa from behind her was such an odd sense of comfort and familiarity now. She tried to remember the time when such noises would have her on edge and fearing for her life.

She couldn't.

With a sigh, she lowered her chin and opened her eyes again. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky, the afternoon would soon fade, but right now everything was rich and aglow in the bright golden light. It was beautiful on the ground. At least she hadn't forgotten how that felt.

For a while, she thought she had.

Sunlight glinted off of something in the water. Feeling more invigorated after being able to sit and drink some, Clarke got to her feet, and slowly waded in, letting the water run over the top of her boots. She saw that it was some kind of metal sticking out of the soft ground, completely submerged. Curious, she ventured out just a little bit more, but someone suddenly shoved her from behind and knocked her off balance. She went flying face first into the water.

Spluttering, she wiped her eyes and looked up from from where she was sitting, fully clothed, in the the shallow water to see Indra standing there.

“Rinse your head,” she said flatly. “The color is hideous.”

Lexa turned from her discussion and was staring daggers at her general, but Indra held her head high regardless.

While annoyed and it had definitely not been easy on her still sore and aching body...Clarke didn't really mind so much. Indra hadn't been mean-spirited. In fact, it almost felt like _teasing_ of a sort. Perhaps the only kind of friendly teasing Indra knew.

“You really could have just said something,” Clarke huffed. “You Grounders are so dramatic.”

Indra remained aloof. Clarke got to her feet, soaked from the waist down, and purposefully stomped past Indra through the water. She made such huge splashes that it went high enough to soak the _Trikru_ leader from the knee down.

Slowly, Indra turned her whole body towards Clarke. Her hand seized the hilt of her blade that rested in her scabbard and the look on her face made Clarke second guess just how wise she'd been to try that...

But instead of cutting Clarke's heart out, as Indra looked like she wanted to do, she simply raised her eyebrows and walked away.

Relieved, Clarke blew out a breath, and mentally patted herself on the back for getting away with _splashing Indra_...

Equal parts proud and pleased with herself, Clarke looked to Lexa and saw her shake her head in amusement before she refocused her attention on the scouts who were still giving their reports.

That made it even better.

She'd _splashed_ one of the most intimidating and brutal generals the Grounders had and Lexa thought it was _funny_.

It was such a beautiful day. If Lexa hadn't come for her, Clarke wouldn't be alive to see it.

Maybe it was okay to be alive. Maybe it was okay to see beautiful things again. Maybe...just maybe... _Wanheda_ did not have to mean that everything she touched died. Instead, could it mean that death would come to anything that threatened beauty, peace, hope. Could Clarke be that? Could she embrace her title as Lexa said? Be the greatness that Ford claimed to see?

She was tired, but it wasn't the same weariness as before. This one felt _livable_.

Clarke shed most of her outer layers - there was some difficulty in trying not to jostle her shoulder - as well as her boots and socks before she walked back into a deeper part of the river where a pool had formed. It took one long dunk under the water for most of the berry dye to wash out, leaving pink streaks behind. Lexa was watching her out of the corner of her eye and Clarke knew it. She took longer than she needed, rubbing the juices out with her hands, positioning herself just right so that Lexa could see how her soaked shirt had turned practically see-through.

She liked that Lexa was watching her.

What she didn't realize, however, was that there were quite a few others who had noticed her as well. It wasn't until Lexa started shouting orders, and had the entire party running around with work to do so that they were too busy to ogle, that Clarke caught on.

It just made her smile even wider.

Maybe it could be like this.

* * *

Clarke was exhausted, but there was no time to rest. They rode for hours and arrived in _Polis_ just as night fell. The preparations for Nia's execution had already been made. Thousands of people had left their homes and were waiting in the city's epicenter.

Waiting for Lexa.

Waiting for the strike that would incite a war and change their lives forever.

They went straight to the staging area. Lexa's army surrounded them and the civilians were packed in behind them. There was a stage erected, about eight feet off the ground, high enough so that people could see the execution from a distance.

There were three _Azgeda_ warriors bound by hand and foot, gagged, beaten, and on their knees in the dirt. They were there to witness their Queen fall and after, they were to be released, to spread the word through the Ice Nation of what took place in _Polis_ tonight.

Clarke stood behind Lexa, a little off to the side, as they waited on the stage. Lexa signaled for Nia to be brought out. A deafening roar broke out as the Queen was led through the crowd, some getting their punches and kicks in. Shoving and screaming and clawing at her until she stumbled up the steps and finally stood on the stage, hunched over slightly, at Lexa's side.

Lexa generously allowed her people to roar, giving them time to process the moment, while Nia was forced to stand and endure. Clarke was standing a few steps back from Lexa, allowing the two leaders to stand together in front of the city of _Polis_ for the last time.

It was hard to hear them over the din, but Lexa's voice was clear and Nia wasn't trying to hide anything.

“How did you unite the clans against me?” Nia asked, seemingly unconcerned with the raging sea of Grounders below who cursed her very being. “They think you weak and pitiful. I know they do not believe you fit to lead us.”

Lexa kept her gaze leveled out towards her people. “Their hatred for you far outweighs any concern about me. You did not win them over when you blackmailed their esteemed leaders into agreeing to falsely put me on trial. Uniting against a common enemy is one of the surest ways to bring peace, do you not recall?”

Nia smiled scornfully. “You always think so simplistically, Alexia. You do not lead your people, _they_ lead _you_.”

“My people have seen a better life under my rule, better than that of any Commander before me. Peace has reigned for years and this war will be a swift one.”

“Dreams are for the weak minded," she tutted. "Do not lower yourself to such feebleness. I expect more from you.”

“And I you,” Lexa replied. “You took great risk to capture _Wanheda_. Leaving the safety of your army... You could have let her run. You might have had enough to end me without her.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Nia tilted her head thoughtfully. “Despite your weakness, the people have always liked you. To risk war with them still holding you in their hearts?” She shook her head. “It was not enough.”

“Your daughter will assume the throne once the news reaches her. Is there a message you wish for me to deliver?”

“Ah,” Nia nodded with a smile, “you desire me to bid her peace as my last wish?”

“Peace to save her life and the life of your grand-child.”

“Do not play coy, Alexia. It is beneath you.”

Lexa sighed, relenting. “This war...it was always going to come, wasn't it?”

“Yes, it was,” Nia agreed simply. “Although, you surprised me.”

Startled, Lexa finally turned her head to look at her.

Nia kept her eyes on the angry people. “I expected it to begin years ago,” she said casually. “Each time it seemed we were on the verge, each time I gained the upper hand, you somehow managed to pull the nations back from the brink.”

“It does not have to be this way,” Lexa insisted. “Declare your intentions for peace. Save your people from extinction. Die with _honor_ tonight.”

Nia turned to her at last. Her eyes were hard and cold. “You are not the rightful leader. _Azgeda_ lead by blood and strength. You are not worthy of your position, you never were, you never will be.”

“You are not worthy to die by my sword,” Lexa hissed, “but I will make an exception when dawn breaks.”

Nia was unfazed. “What you have done...what you have done for _her_ \--”

“I chose to save my people," Lexa cut her off irascibly. "War was inevitable, we have both known this for some time, but you are right. I held you back. I forced you to wait. And now I have the means to protect us all. _Azgeda_ will fall.”

Nia tugged lightly at the ropes binding her hands. “Whatever you believe you have planned, Alexia...tonight means your end as well as mine. You know this."

“Perhaps.” Lexa nodded once. “Perhaps not. But when I die, it will be after I have slaughtered thousands of your people, laid waste to your city, and taken the Ice Nation for my own. Your daughter and all her offspring will die at my hand. All because you could not accept peace. The royal _Azgeda_ bloodline ends with Princess Mara and the son she has just borne mere weeks ago. The Ice Nation will never rise again. Your death marks a new age, Nia.”

She scoffed, unperturbed by Lexa's brutal threats. “Still so naïve...even after all this time.”

“You are forgetting how our world has changed. People fell from the skies, Nia. Their weapons are greater than anything we saw from the Mountain. Why do you think I waited until this moment to kill you when I could have taken your life a year ago that day on the battlefield? The tide has changed.”

Nia's nostrils flared, a crack in her cold exterior showed that Lexa had gotten through to her.

Lexa turned her whole body to look at her and she said loudly, loud enough for the people to start quieting down to be able to hear her.

“ _H _aiplana_ kom Azgeda_ , you die tonight without honor and without legacy. You die for your crimes against the twelve nations, for your greed, for your treachery, and for your unworthiness. Above all, you die because I will it as your Commander!”

The people cheered and shouted and stomped and raised their firsts in the air – loyal and proud of their _Heda_ who protected them.

Lexa stepped in closer to Nia's side. “All that you hold dear...I have already taken.”

Nia inhaled sharply. “Beware, _child_. What rises will always fall.”

“Indeed,” Lexa replied easily. “But the question remains...how many of your people will live to see me fall?”

Nia met her eyes with the slightest bit of alarm.

Clarke was startled too.

Neither one of them had ever heard that kind of darkness in Lexa before.

Lexa turned away and waved her hands to signal for Nia to be taken and bound to the post behind them. Her arms were pinned above her head and her clothing was stripped away completely.

She stepped up before her people and they immediately quieted.

“ _STOT AU!_ ” she shouted abruptly, raising her sword into the air.

_IT BEGINS!_

The roar erupted again with twice as much fervor. Lexa walked off to the side, sitting down on her throne. Clarke followed and stood next to her, shaky on her feet, but she wouldn't dare be seated in Lexa's presence. Lexa needed every allusion of strength Clarke could muster if they hoped to have a chance for Lexa to reclaim her power enough to win the war that would start tonight.

Lexa nodded for the first warrior to step forward and Clarke braced herself.


	24. As Dawn Breaks

He raised his dagger and went to swipe at the Queen's stomach.

“ _Set raun_!”

_Hold!_

Clarke, the warrior, Indra, and about five thousand other people looked at Lexa.

She waved the warrior away and yanked a blade out from her pouch. She turned it around in her hands, holding the hilt out for Clarke to take.

“ _Wanheda_ will make the first cut.”

Their eyes met and Clarke took the knife without hesitation.

She didn't expect to be a part of this. This wasn't her way, this wasn't her people's way, but it didn't mean she didn't want to see Nia suffer for what she did to her. What she tried to do. The destruction her actions would cause in the months to come.

 _Wanheda_ would make the first cut and _Heda_ would deliver the last.

Clarke nodded her acceptance at Lexa and removed her sling before stepping forward.

“Slice at the arms or face,” Indra said discreetly, “there you may cut deep without going too far. Do not shy away.”

Clark didn't look at her, but she heard every word Indra said. She planted herself in front of Nia who stared back at her unflinchingly. Clarke knew she was supposed to feel some kind of reticence. Some moral conscience echoing inside of her that said this was wrong. _Something_ to remind her that she was partaking in the torture and execution of another human being which was against her nature.

She didn't.

All she saw was Nia's face by the river, her sword raised in the air, the boot that pinned Clarke's arm helplessly to the ground.

Instinct overwhelmed her and she spun around, marching forward to the edge of the stage and raised the knife high in the air before the crowd.

“ _JUS DREIN, JUS DAUN!_ ”

They howled in reply, thundering and screaming for her savagely.

Adrenaline flooded Clarke's body with the bloodthirsty noise of the people, crying out for violence. She turned back to Nia, took a few steps, and reached up high to snatch her wrist.

“The hand first, right?”

Nia's eyes glittered with some kind of rueful amusement. Clarke paid it no mind. She cut deep into the palm, drawing down slowly, hitting bone, until the entire length of the knife was stained with her blood. Red ran down Nia's arm and dripped onto the wooden platform. Clarke didn't realize how much force she had used until she released Nia's wrist and half of her hand nearly fell off. Nia never uttered a sound. After one last look, she walked away from Nia and back to Lexa.

Clarke held out the knife, dripping with blood, presenting it as an offering to the Commander.

Lexa gave a slow nod in approval. Indra stepped forward to accept the blade on the Commander's behalf. Clarke resumed her place, standing at Lexa's side while Lexa sat on the throne.

Lexa beckoned forward the warrior who was stopped before again and he made his cut swiftly. On it went.

Nia grunted a few times, but her face was tight, her jaw clenched, she was panting in odd, harsh breaths, and her eyes were locked on something unseen as she withdrew into herself. Even the strongest warrior would never hold out for long. She would break soon.

“It will be a long night, Clarke,” Lexa said without looking at her, gaze focused wholly on each cut drawn by the line of Lexa's soldiers that stretched out from beyond the stage and into the crowd.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

* * *

Lexa's ominous words to the three _Azgeda_ men just after dawn still rang in Clarke's ears.

Nia was dead against the post she was bound to, so horrifically disfigured, that Clarke never would have recognized her. She had been butchered alive. She no longer had hair, eyes, a tongue, lips, fingers, toes...a face.

_Death by a Thousand Cuts._

They'd carried on all night, stopping periodically to revive her with coagulants to slow the bleeding and forms of stimulants to keep her conscious. All the remaining _Azgeda_ had already been imprisoned, the ones that Nia left behind in her pursuit of Clarke, but they brought them out throughout the night, executing them before Nia, just so that she could see her people fall one by one. They killed every last one and their bodies were unceremoniously collected into carts to be taken to the border for the _Azgeda_ to find. Every last one, save three.

Nia broke after the first hour when they started burning her, and she roared like a beast in captivity. However, it was the moment when when they carved out one of her eyes that truly stayed with Clarke. The sounds she made after that were not human nor animal. She wailed and screamed in such a way that Clarke thought she would never stop.

Lexa delivered the last strike, driving the point of her sword slowly, tortuously, into Nia's heart as the sun rose behind them. Then she turned to the three bound warriors, young, lower ranking warriors that were still strong enough for a journey, and ordered that they be released.

“ _Em H_ _aiplana wan op,”_ Lexa said darkly. _“Bak op. Azgeda won sad klin. Tel em op Greiplana: oso laik ogud."_

_Your Queen is dead. Return home. Azgeda have but one choice. Tell your Princess: we are ready._

Lexa decided three would live because the journey back to their city was so far, it was unlikely all three would survive without the right preparations. She only needed one to make it back.

Clarke found out later from a report that they were taken to the northern border without incident and had their bindings removed. All three fled.

' _We are ready._ '

Were they really?

“How do you feel?” Clarke asked as they walked back together in the early morning. Lexa's stronghold rose over them in a shadow.

“Justice was done today,” Lexa replied simply.

“That didn't answer my question.”

Lexa sighed. “I do not know, Clarke,” she said wearily, shaking her head. “It has been... _a long road_. And now...now it stretches out endlessly with nothing but war.”

“We can look ahead tomorrow, Lexa,” she said quietly. “Today should just be about... _today_.”

Lexa looked at her and the hope in her eyes was too much for Clarke to deny.

“ _We_ can?”

Clarke wasn't quite ready to answer that.

“Just let it be today, Lexa...with no tomorrow or yesterday. Vengeance was satisfied. Consequences do not exist right now. Allow yourself that.”

“Perhaps you're right.”

“Oh, I know I'm right.”

“Shut up, Clarke.”

Clarke couldn't help herself. She laughed.

* * *

A war was coming. They didn't know when, where, or how, but all that mattered was that it would soon break and they had to be ready.

But this time, the clans would be united against the _Azgeda_.

It was still pitch dark outside when Clarke woke with her heart in her throat, a cold sweat making her shiver despite the blankets she had piled on top of her. It had been three days since Nia's execution and all her time since had been in congregation with the newly formed war council.

* * *

They had new ambassadors brought in with the new clan leaders and it'd been three days of endless bickering and debates over how to counter whatever Princess Mara chose to retaliate with. With the introduction of the new ambassadors, Lexa announced Clarke as an ambassador for the Sky People.

It rankled many, but Lexa had already spoken with Clarke about her intentions to make the Sky People the 13 th  clan.

“If your people become my people, Clarke. They will be under my protection, no one would make a move against them without it being an attack on me. With retaliation due any day now from the _Azgeda_ and the fact that Arkadia is directly in the path between _Polis_ and the Ice Nation... The Sky People will be caught without any chance to defend themselves.”

“Don't make it like you're doing us such a favor, Lexa," Clarke said tightly. "You want our technology too. We don't have the numbers that the other clans provide, but what our weapons and our knowledge will provide...it will change the entire battlefield.”

“I don't deny that your people will be a great asset, Clarke, but it is not my sole purpose either.”

“We have the technology to make it possible to cut a long and drawn out war shorter than any of your people could dream of. Just be honest. You don't give a damn if they live or die, just that them living means they might help you.”

“You're wrong,” Lexa said sharply.

Clarke looked at her.

“They will be a great asset, yes, but it will also increase tensions with the other clans...to a point where I doubt the possibility of holding them together.”

“Then why--?”

“Allow your people become my people so that I will never again have to make a choice between you," she said quickly, as if she was worried she wouldn't get all the words out.

Clarke stared at her with wide eyes.

If she was honest with herself, she would admit that her heart had skipped a beat.

But she wasn't honest with herself.

This was just Lexa's pragmatism and cunning leadership.

Lexa took a steadying breath and continued, “If the Sky People join my coalition, they come under my rule, and then _Wanheda_ will have position here – as an ambassador for the 13 th clan. Knowing that your people agree to my rule and that you are with them, it will be enough to quiet the clan leaders and force them to accept it.”

Clarke nodded slightly, her lips pressed firmly together. “It's another way to show that you command _Wanheda_...”

“It is to save us all, Clarke,” she said with a hint of resignation.

“I know it is.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I don't know if I can get them to agree. I may have forgiven you, Lexa, but my people are another story. To them, you killed Finn. You went back on your word, breaking the alliance, leaving us at the Mountain... They won't trust you.”

“You've forgiven me?” Lexa echoed, stunned.

Clarke was startled as well. She didn't realize what she'd said until Lexa repeated it. She'd said it so simply, so naturally. It was true. She didn't know when it had happened. It wasn't all in one moment. It just slowly became more true over time.

Their eyes met and Clarke could _feel_ how much Lexa wanted to say something, but one of her advisers walked into the room, interrupting them unapologetically.

“ _Heda_ , they grow restless waiting,” she said. “There are many urgent matters to disc--”

“Then. They. Will. Wait! _”_ Lexa said through gritted teeth and sent the woman scampering back out.

“You should go,” Clarke said quietly.

“You should come with me.”

“What?”

“There is no time, Clarke. Decisions must be made and they will affect your people whether or not they are part of the coalition. Join the war council to represent your people or decisions will be made for them without any of their say.”

“If I go in there now, what happens if I can't convince my people...my _mother_...Kane...that joining the coalition is in their best interest?”

Lexa's reply brought about such an eerie sense of déjà vu...

“You won't allow that to happen.”

* * *

Three days of endless politics and no news of movement from anywhere on the hundred mile long _Azgeda_ border. Indra left that morning to ride to Arkadia and meet with the Chancellor, her mother, and Kane, to present Lexa's offer. Clarke should have gone herself, but...it just didn't feel right. She didn't feel right to leave.

She couldn't see them yet.

And every night she still woke the same way, falling back into a restless sleep each and every time. The first two nights, she'd wanted it, but she couldn't bring herself to put her feet on the floor.

Jasper's face, his tears as he cradled Maya's burned body in his arms, wouldn't leave her.

Clarke threw the blankets off and reached for a canteen of water on her bedside, chugging it down. There were noises outside her window and she rose to see what it was. A group of teenagers were giggling and shouting as they ran arm in arm, hand in hand, drunk as could be without a care. A girl jumped on a boy's back and kissed him all over the side of his face. One of the boys picked up another boy and spun him around happily until they tumbled onto the ground, laughing hysterically.

They weren't thinking about war tonight.

Clarke walked out of her room and straight into Lexa's without bothering to knock. Lexa hadn't gone to sleep yet. She was sitting at her desk with candlelight, reading a book. Clarke guessed Sun Tzu's “The Art of War” without seeing the actual title.

She didn't say a word to Lexa, didn't offer any explanation to Lexa's heavy, questioning gaze. She just walked by her, pulled back the blankets on Lexa's bed, got in, and laid down.

A few moments later, Lexa extinguished the candle and joined her. Clarke was on her side, her back to Lexa when the other girl slid in beside her. She felt Lexa's hesitancy and scooted back so that they were pressed together. She took Lexa's arm and wrapped it around her waist, nestling her hand below her chin, between her breasts. Lexa exhaled unsteadily, but her embrace grew firmer around Clarke once she realized what it was she wanted. She moved closer, molding herself to Clarke's body, and gently brushed her lips against the back of her neck.

“Before I sleep...I must ask if you have any vials or weapons on you that might be used to incapacitate me.”

Clarke grinned widely in the dark, unbeknownst to Lexa, and she squeezed her hand tighter.

“I'm afraid you're just going to have to trust me,” she teased.

“That is not easy.”

“But it's possible.”

Lexa pressed her cheek to Clarke's shoulder. “I trust you,” she whispered.

Clarke took that deep into her heart and closed her eyes, surrendering herself to Lexa's embrace, Lexa's warmth, Lexa's scent, and the comfort that Lexa's bodily presence brought to ease the rawness that plagued her spirit.

She woke alone, but it was well into morning, and she had not dreamed of them.

* * *

Lexa came into her room the next afternoon after they'd broken with the war council for food and rest before they started again in the evening. Clarke was sitting on a table, toying with a rusted piece of metal.

“What is that?”

“I found it in the river,” Clarke replied, holding it up to inspect it more closely. “You know, when Indra pushed me in? It's a toy for Raven. I think it's a compressor from an automobile, but I won't know for sure until I get it cleaned up. Maybe she could use it for one for the vehicles she's building. Or re-purpose it for one of her inventions. Honestly, I don't even know if she can use it. It's probably just a piece of junk.”

“I see,” Lexa said carefully. She didn't move much further from the door and stood with her hands clasped behind her. “You plan on returning to your people then?”

Clarke was surprised. She never once considered going back, not any time soon. It'd never occurred to her. She just saw the piece of steel and picked it up for Raven without ever thinking of when she would actually give it to her. Just... _eventually_.

“Someday,” she answered quietly, setting the rusty piece down.

“Do you have an idea of where you wish to go then? Once your part is finished, that is. If they agree, you won't have to be the ambassador anymore. Your people could send someone else and then you will be free to leave as you wished.”

Clarke hopped off the table and walked towards her with a raised eyebrow. “Lexa. Just ask me.”

“No.”

“No?” Clarke echoed.

“You know the question,” Lexa said testily. “I will not ask it again.”

“You didn't ask it at all!”

“I did the night you left."

Clarke softened at that.

Lexa was acting in earnest. She stood before her now, guarded, but still so vulnerable. Clarke could hurt her if she wanted to. Lexa would allow it. Actually...Lexa didn't have much of a choice.

“You want to know if I'll stay, Lexa?” Clarke asked gently, moving closer.

She gave a barely perceptible nod in reply.

Clarke walked straight into arms and kissed her until neither of them had a breath left.

“I don't know how long I can,” she admitted, resting her forehead against Lexa's.

“Then we will make the most of it,” she replied huskily and took Clarke's mouth again, moving them back until they tumbled over onto Clarke's bed.


	25. Assassins

“You managed to get it soaked very deeply in such a short time,” Lexa said as she combed through the wet strands with her fingers, focusing on the stubborn pink streaks in Clarke's hair that didn't seem to want to leave. “It was a clever idea.”

“It wasn't my idea,” Clarke said simply, her eyes closed as she lost herself in Lexa's reassuring touch.

Steam rose around them from the hot water. Lexa had her back against the porcelain of the tub and Clarke was laying between her legs, resting against her front. Clarke had so few experiences with being submerged in water like this...it was near heavenly and now she had a naked and wet Lexa pressed against her back. The way her body slid against hers, the slippery friction, the heat from the water – her senses were heightened and every inch of Clarke was acutely aroused. This bath was possibly one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Lexa _suggesting_ it was probably the second best thing that had ever happened.

“I met this girl at one of the trading posts and she recognized me, helped me dye it. Would have worked too, but I messed up. I should have told the _Azgeda_ hunter that I was _Sankru_ or from the Rock Line people...anything but the Boat People. I just said the first thing I could think of and that was Lincoln's friend... He was too stupid to be suspicious, but the others figured me out. They caught me within hours.”

“Do not blame yourself. My scouts say that Nia had over a hundred warriors spread out in every direction, lying in wait for you.”

“Then I was stupid to leave.”

Lexa was silent and Clarke glared at her over her shoulder.

“Uh, this is the part where you say, “No, you're not stupid, Clarke,”.

Lexa simply looked at her and Clarke's mouth fell open indignantly before she looked away with a huff.

“Anyway, you never did tell me if you liked me as a redhead or not.”

“I was more concerned with other matters at the time, Clarke. The color of your hair was not a priority.”

“My hair should _always_ be a priority, Lexa.”

Lexa made a choking noise that Clarke interpreted as some kind of stifled amusement. Mission accomplished.

Clarke lowered herself into the water further, sliding down Lexa's front as she did. She traced her fingers up Lexa's smooth naked calves and then higher over her knees and thighs. Lexa inhaled audibly, but she didn't move.

“Now, that you've had time to process it, me as a redhead – yea or nay?”

 “Clarke...” she started, but then she trailed off.

The way she said it was more serious than what they were actually talking about, so Clarke sat up again and turned around to face her. The basin was huge, but water still sloshed over the edges at her movement.

“What is it?”

Lexa had her gaze fixated on the edge of the tub, unwilling or unable to look Clarke in the eye. Clarke slid forward and put her knees on either side of Lexa, wrapping her arms around her shoulders to be able to pull herself close again. Lexa's breasts slipped against hers in the most delicious way imaginable. Clarke was having a hard time focusing on Lexa being worried when all she could think about was how good she felt...

“When I found you...with Nia's sword to your throat...” she said quietly, “it was _unbearable_.”

Clarke's vision clashed with memory. She saw the steel glinting in the sunlight, heard the cruel taunting, heard the hoof beats in the distance. Lexa had barely made it in time. Clarke wrist ached at the thought of it. How close she'd come...

“You'd been beaten, bleeding, so darkened with dirt, it was hardly you at all. You were trembling and terrified when you finally gave way in my arms.” Lexa finally met her eyes with startling ferocity. She clenched her jaw. “I will not stand for that ever again. So, no, Clarke, I did not like the red hair.”

Clarke didn't expect the lighthearted topic of conversation to turn this way. They had made an agreement before getting into the bath that neither of them were allowed to talk about war, politics, death, or anything ugly. This was supposed to be a small moratorium. In the morning, they would reconvene with the war council and once again go over every aspect imaginable of Princess Mara and the _Azgeda_ retaliation. They promised not to discuss any of that tonight, just to focus on each other...for a short while.

“I can't promise that you'll never see me like that again, Lexa. With the way my life on Earth seems to be going...getting beaten up is pretty much standard fare." She cupped her cheek gently, tracing her wet thumb over Lexa's lower lip. "But I _can_ promise that it will never be because I ran from you again.”

Lexa watched her for a moment, seeming to weigh something, before she reached out and slid her hands around Clarke's naked waist, pulling her forward with some force. Water sloshed everywhere, but neither one cared. Lexa brought Clarke flush against her warm, slick body, and captured her lips. Clarke deepened it at once, melting into Lexa's embrace, Lexa's lips, Lexa. She panted against her mouth, breaking only for a moment to breathe, before she delved back in. Lexa moaned against her and it sent a hot flame of arousal through her body, streaking downward. Lexa's kisses were intoxicating, heady, and utterly overwhelming. Clarke felt the rest of it fall away as Lexa became her whole world. Just in those moments, when her hands moved over her body, when her lips pressed against hers, when her tongue met hers with continuous mixing of gentleness, passion, ferocity, and back to gentleness.

The water had cooled enough to be uncomfortable, but Clarke didn't have to say a word. Lexa broke away long enough to leap out of the basin and she grabbed Clarke by the thighs, picking her up out of the water. Clarke instinctively wrapped her legs around Lexa's waist. Their lips locked together in such frenzied need, Clarke was vaguely aware of the chilled air hitting her dripping wet body, but it didn't matter enough. Lexa carried her through the room, to her own bedroom, and when Clarke's back hit the warm furs, she didn't let Lexa pull away for a single moment, dragging her down with her.

* * *

 

The war council had been in session for an hour and Clarke wanted to scream. All they did was bicker and chase their tails. She wished Lexa would just stand up and tell them go float themselves, but that wasn't an option. Lexa was in her diplomatic mode. So Clarke had to sit there and let them fight amongst themselves with no real action taken. It was a waste of time. They didn't need to be in there to discuss the maybe's and what if's. Not until there was a real threat, but this is what Lexa had to sit through, and Clarke would sit through it as well.

“It has been a week since the Queen's execution and still there is no sign of the _Azgeda_ readying for war. Perhaps we--”

“That does not mean war isn't coming,” Lexa replied evenly. “It is and it will. It is not a matter of if, only when.”

 "How do we anticipate the Princess' move if we don't even know where she is?” The _Sankru_ delegate threw her hands up.

“Nia kept her in seclusion for a reason,” another replied.

“She wanted this to happen. She knew that when Mara took the throne, she would have the element of surprise. No one knows her ways, how she thinks, her strategies...”

“Or she hid her because Mara is a simpleton and incapable of leading?”

“That is from the insipid whispers of rumors and idle gossip. We have heard such things for years and I wouldn't put it above Nia to have started the rumors herself!”

“I agree,” Lexa said. “Nia would never allow the future of the _Azgeda_ royal bloodline to be left to incapable offspring.”

Clarke tilted her head. “Maybe she didn't have choice. You said she only had one child - maybe she couldn't have more and Mara was all she had.”

“The Princess herself is not the problem,” one delegate said, frustrated. “It is that she has been hidden for so long that we have no way to know what she will do. Whether or not she's intelligent enough, she will be surrounded by _Azgeda_ elders, appointed by Nia personally. We have no way of knowing what they will do. They have never been in power before.”

“If we cannot anticipate how Mara will retaliate, there is nothing we can do to prepare for her beyond what has already been done. Our clans have been warned, our armies are gathering in every major village. _Polis_ is the least likely candidate for the initial reprisal. We are too well guarded here. She must strike elsewhere, but if we move our armies to one location, we weaken the others, and they will be ripe for the taking.”

“So all we are to do is wait? Allow her to attack us? Let her blind us? No! We should be invading Ice Nation territory.”

“He's right, if we go on the offensive, she will have no choice but to focus her efforts on pushing us back.”

“Ice Nation spans a thousand miles into snow and ice. Our army is not prepared for such battle conditions,” Lexa said. “We would be weakened irrevocably and then struck down. Invasion is out of the question. Not against the full power of the _Azgeda_ army.”

“ _Waiting_ is not an option.”

“No, it is not,” Lexa agreed.

They continued like that for a while longer before breaking for the day and the room emptied, leaving them alone in the throne room, Clarke turned to a weary Lexa and folded her arms across her chest.

“You've already done something, haven't you?”

Lexa eyed her carefully.

“I know you, Lexa. You would never wait like this, allowing all this uncertainty. What is it that you haven't told them? That you haven't told _me_?”

Lexa rose from her throne and walked to the balcony with her hands clasped behind her back. Clarke followed and stood next to her as the sun set over _Polis_.

“The moment the clan leaders agreed to lawfully remove Nia from the throne, I ordered two of my best warriors to ride for the last known location of the Princess.”

“Assassins,” Clarke clarified with an understanding nod.

“Yes. If they are able to find her and succeed, the chaos will buy us more time before another rises with enough power to unite _Azgeda_. By then, we will be able to invade and tear them apart from the inside.”

“You said invasion was not an option.”

“Against a fully prepared _Azgeda_ army, it is not. But against one that has been splintered and its pieces scattered with no real leader to wield them? We will be able to move swiftly enough so that our army does not need to suffer the harsh climate for long. Just long enough to cut them down and whoever remains will surrender to my rule.”

“If they kill Princess Mara, what about her child?”

Lexa's jawline tightened and her whole body grew rigid, defending itself against an unseen attack. The realization washed over her in a sickly feeling.

“Oh...” Clarke said, looking away. “Their orders are to kill her _and_ her baby.”

“It is the only way to ensure the bloodline is ended once and for all. If I allowed the child to live, he would be raised among _Azgeda_ with the sole purpose of achieving revenge for his mother and the Queen's deaths. The cycle would never end."

“You don't know that for certain, Lexa. He's an infant! What if he grows up to be different than his grandmother? Than what we think his mother is? How is it right to condemn a child to death for something they _might_ do one day?”

“No one said it was right, Clarke. It simply _is_. I cannot take that chance.”

“And that's okay with you? You're totally fine with killing a child?”

“Do not act like this is easy for me, Clarke. You know exactly how much I struggle with this because our feelings are more alike than they are different. However, I do what must be done. You are still wringing your hands.”

“That wasn't a problem when I killed five hundred people inside the Mountain,” she said darkly.

“That was as a last resort," Lexa stressed. "You have yet to discover what it means to take action first and prevent such outcomes from ever happening.”

Clarke fell silent for a moment, letting it sink in. Lexa was wound so tightly it looked like she might crack open at any second.

“It's harder, isn't it?”

Lexa swallowed thickly. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It is.”

Clarke sighed. “You got that approval almost two weeks ago. Have you heard anything?”

“No. Their orders are not to return or make contact until they have achieved their mission. If they have died in the process, we would have heard by now.”

“So you think they're still looking for her? Or waiting for the right moment?”

“I had hoped it would give them the element of surprise, even if only by a day or two, but if they failed to locate her quickly enough...it will take longer for the right opportunity to present itself.”

“Why haven't you told the war council?" Clarke held her hands out in confusion. "We've been circling this for days with no end in sight!”

“I cannot risk this information getting out.”

“You think someone on the council would betray you to the Ice Nation?”

“It is always possible. Trust no one, Clarke. That is the only way secrets are truly kept.”

“Trust no one...” she echoed knowingly. “Except each other?”

Lexa watched her for a long time before lowering her eyes and she nodded slowly.

_'Not everyone. Not you.'_

* * *

Lexa started mentioning the Arkers a little more every day to Clarke. She worked it casually into their conversations, over their meals. Her scouts were coming back with reports of expansion, that the Sky People were fortifying their base and their numbers were growing stronger.

Indra came back after a week with news that the Chancellor would not agree to the coalition without meeting with Lexa herself. There were rampant rumors that Lexa was the one who captured Clarke and was now holding her prisoner in _Polis_ , but Indra put those fires out. Abby wanted to see Clarke, to know for sure the rumors were unfounded, and hear Lexa's proposal in person before any decision was made. Lexa sent a message back with an invitation for the Sky People to bring a delegation to _Polis_ for a summit. As far as the other clans knew, it was to negotiate terms of a treaty, not an initiation. Lexa couldn't risk the Sky People refusing such an offer and have it be publicly known.

It hurt Clarke to hear about her people more and more, but she knew exactly why Lexa was doing it and she didn't try to stop her. She needed to hear it. She needed to start figuring out a way to let them back into her life again. She was here fighting for them, making decisions in their name, yet she still couldn't face them. She couldn't think of her people without thinking of all the people who died to save them. The people that Clarke _murdered_ to save them.

There were also rumblings that the Sky People were colonizing the Mountain, but Lexa held them at bay. Nyko arrived in _Polis_ and requested an audience, which Lexa, of course, granted. When Lexa heard he was going to talk to her about the Sky People, she had Clarke brought to the room to hear it.

Nyko told them about how he'd been attacked by _Azgeda_ . That the Sky People went to great lengths to save him and brought him to the Mountain to use their equipment. He spoke of Abby Griffin, the Chancellor, who saved his life and even while knowing the Grounders would fear it, she knew the good that the Mountain could be. Abby ordered the Mountain to be opened: accessible to Sky People and Grounders alike. She wanted to help save people and use the technology there to help, rather than destroy. She wanted to change its meaning. There were murmurs of discontent and angry whispers all through the room, and Lexa's face remained impassive, but Clarke had a few tears escape before she quickly wiped them away. Pride filled her chest, bursting from her heart so powerfully that it hurt. _Her mother._ Changing the world for the better.

“Clarke,” Lexa's voice startled her out her thoughts. “You were inside the Mountain. You know what they are capable of. Will the Sky People take up their mantle?”

“The Sky People have no desire to hurt the Grounders," she said confidently. "We want peace more than anything. We have knowledge and technology that is beyond anything you've known. Our resources were limited when our home was destroyed, but with the technology inside Mount Weather, we can help people. Mount Weather was never meant to be a grave. It was meant to save lives. The Chancellor wants to use it for that purpose and that purpose alone.”

“But the acid fog, the Sky People could use it again!" one of the ambassadors pointed out angrily.

"And the missiles!” another cried out.

“They would never use it,” Clarke answered firmly, “but you don't have to trust them or even me. You can send whoever your want to see it for yourselves. When we took Mount Weather, my people destroyed the acid fog generators beyond repair at great risk to their own lives. As for the missiles, I understand your concern, but I know that the Commander and the Sky People will be able to come to an agreement about disabling it for good.”

Lexa nodded, considering it. “Or we could take control of the missiles for ourselves and use it if necessary in the coming days against the _Azgeda_.”

That went over much better with the audience in the chamber, but Nyko and Clarke were horrified.

“We can't—” Clarke started, but Lexa cut her off.

“Either way,” she said sternly. “The Sky People are _not_ colonizing the Mountain. They are _opening_ it. It's a new dawn. War will come, but with the clans united and the Sky People allied with us...peace will soon follow.”

* * *

 

“You're not taking the missiles,” Clarke said while they ate dinner together.

“We are not discussing this.”

“Like hell we're not! Lexa, the damage it--”

“I meant, there is no _need_ to discuss it. Not unless it becomes a necessity, which I am doing everything in my power to prevent. Your mother made a foolhardy decision by claiming the Mountain. She has angered many and it is only the oncoming threat of war that keeps the people's attention turned away for now. She will have to answer for it eventually. No matter how well meaning, she has staked a claim in a powerful enemy's domain that has taken thousands of my people's lives. It is not just a hospital, it is a weapon."

“We're not going to use it against you, Lexa.”

“I don't believe you will, but that does not change the power that exists inside the Mountain. The people need to feel reassured, Clarke. If they believe I am in control of such a weapon, it will be easier for us all. Whether or not it is true...”

“So you _don't_ want to use the missiles?”

“Not if we don't have to.”

“But you're keeping it as an option?”

“That is the intelligent choice. You disagree?”

Clarke hated having to admit it, but no, she did not disagree.

_Only as a last resort._

Then she remembered the last time she had been left with _the last resort_. Five hundred dead.

She remembered slipping away from TonDC and the heat from the blast as it threw her back. Two hundred and fifty dead.

They could never allow things to get that far.

Lexa looked up and answered her silent musings.

“It will not get that far, Clarke.”

* * *

The Sky People delegation were set to arrive in _Polis_ the next day for the summit. Clarke was going to have to face her mother and Kane to convince them that this was their best option. There was still no word from Lexa's assassins or any sign of movement from the _Azgeda_. The stalemate was driving Clarke utterly out of her mind, but most of it probably had to do with the fact that she was going to face her mother again after more than half a year of being gone.

Face her mother and convince her to join a coalition ruled by a girl who had abandoned them.

Yeah, that probably had a lot to do with why Clarke was finishing off an entire jug of wine and pacing furiously in Lexa's room. Lexa was trying to read while Clarke worked herself up into near hysterics. It turns out her current book of choice was not Sun Tzu – as Clarke had thought the first night she came into Lexa's bedroom to sleep – but rather it was “The Aeneid” in its original form and Clarke discovered that she was incredibly turned on by the fact that Lexa knew Latin...

However, Clarke's anxiety was reaching peak points, so Lexa finally gave up on trying to read. She took the _second_ jug of wine away from Clarke, despite vehement protestations.

“That will not help.”

“Wanna bet?” Clarke shot back and reached for the wine again, but Lexa held her off.

“You need a clear mind for tomorrow, Clarke. You can face this without needing to numb yourself. You are more than that.”

She groaned loudly. “Give me the wine and go back to your _war poetry_ , Lexa,” she said mockingly.

Lexa looked at her for a long moment before rolling her eyes and she picked Clarke up over her shoulder.

“What the fu--!”

Lexa tossed her, quite ungracefully, onto her bed and climbed on top of her.

“If you are in need of a distraction, Clarke. I am more than happy to oblige. All you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck you, Lexa,” she shot back. “You can't just throw me around like you own me!"

“I can and I did,” she replied easily and slipped her fingers underneath the waistband of Clarke's pants, pulling down.

“Well, I don't _want_ you to!” Clarke spat.

Lexa froze.

Her face burned with embarrassment and what had been a near bravado now crumbled before Clarke into a series of stammers and pure _hurt_. “I-I am sorry, I did not mean--”

She started to lift herself off her, but Clarke reached up and grabbed her by the shirt, pulling back Lexa down into a deep kiss.

“I changed my mind,” she said, breathing hard against Lexa's lips. “Distract me.”

Lexa growled in annoyance and pushed Clarke down forcefully. She attacked her mouth with vigor and tore at her clothes.

Clarke was impossible.

Lexa let her know it.

* * *

 

It was late and Lexa had fallen into a drowsy sleep, but Clarke was still awake. They laid on their sides beneath the blankets and Clarke had her arm thrown lazily over Lexa's side, nestling into her warmth from behind. She slipped her leg between Lexa's before pulling back enough to see the black markings that lined Lexa's spine. She traced each one with her fingertips, making a mental note to ask Lexa what each one meant. She'd wondered from the first time she saw Lexa naked, but never really had the opportunity to ask. Lexa's skin was smooth and warm beneath her touch. Her back rose and fell slightly with each breath. Her hair was obscuring the top part, so Clarke had to push it down with some effort. Some of Lexa's braids had fallen loose and the natural curls were starting to take over. Clarke smiled, Lexa had unruly hair. How ironic for a girl who prided herself on control at every turn. She wondered how much time and effort Lexa put into taming it, braiding it, making sure every strand stayed where it was supposed to instead of letting it go where it wanted to.

At least she was letting it go with Clarke.

Clarke was the one who got to see her like this. Clarke was the one who got to see the messy braids, unruly hair, see her mouth part and her eyes dilate. She got to hear her moans, whimpers, and whispers of adoration. She got to see Lexa naked, vulnerable, open to her and to her alone. She wanted it. She wanted everything Lexa had. She wanted to consume her and Lexa would let her.

Clarke moved closer again, slipping her hand over Lexa's hip, taking a moment to trace the length of the freshly healed scar on her side. It seemed so small now compared to the damage it had caused and everything Clarke did to repair it. She skimmed past it, past the bloody memory, and across Lexa's taught stomach, moving upward until reached the small hollow of Lexa's throat and then trailed her fingers down, between her breasts, over her stomach, and ghosting over the softness between her legs. Lexa's breathing never changed, but Clarke knew she was awake.

She hadn't meant to be so harsh earlier. It was the pressure of having to see her mom again tomorrow, Kane, and whoever else decided to come. Pressure and an ample amount of wine had her channeling that uneasy frustration towards Lexa. But when she had denied her so viciously...the look on Lexa's face just tore at Clarke's heart. She never meant to make Lexa feel that way.

A few weeks ago, she would have taken pride in it, satisfaction in hurting her, but now... They'd both already been hurt so much. Clarke didn't want to hurt her anymore. She wanted to make Lexa feel the way she did, that being together made her stronger, that just one look made her knees weak, that kissing her was the sweetest joy, and making love to her was explosive beyond compare. Did Lexa feel that way? She prayed she did.

Tomorrow they would expect an explanation for where she's been and what she'd done. An explanation she would not give. They'd want her to come back and Clarke wasn't ready. She wanted to be here. She wanted be in this bed next to Lexa and not some cot in camp with all her people looking to her at every turn. Here, she could do some good, help them, but she wouldn't have to see them. See them and know...

Tonight, Lexa was the only thing she needed to know. She raised her hand back to Lexa's throat and traveled the same path again, only this time she raked her nails lightly over her soft skin, smiling at the gooseflesh her action caused. When she cupped her again, it was with more pressure than the last time, and Lexa hips moved slightly against in response.

Not willing to wait any longer, Clarke did away with any pretense of allowing Lexa to sleep, and pressed hot, slow, open mouth kisses along Lexa's exposed neck. A small, contented noise rose from the back of Lexa's throat. She tried to flip over onto her back, wanting more, but Clarke held her there.

“Don't move.”

She leaned over and found Lexa's mouth, giving her what she'd been looking for. Lexa reached up and threaded her fingers in Clarke's hair, keeping her there. She tried to move again so that she could deepen the kiss, but Clarke denied her, breaking away.

“I said, _don't move_.”

Lexa looked at her over her shoulder with slight confusion, lips parted and swollen, still sleep-dazed, but her eyes were dark with lust and need.

Clarke kissed, nipped, licked, and sucked her way down Lexa's body until she reached her thighs and then she lifted one, settling herself comfortably between them. Lexa gasped and reached for the edge of her bed. She didn't try to shift onto her back anymore, she was obeying Clarke by staying on her side, and grasped the edge tightly as Clarke's mouth parted her.

Clarke held her thighs in place as Lexa's breathing grew quicker and her hips moved feverishly against her. The small noises she made, her soft moans, spurred Clarke on more. Lexa's body was coiling, getting ready to spring, but it was too soon for Clarke's liking. She stopped, despite Lexa's small protesting cry, and crawled up to kiss her fiercely.

“Not yet,” she said firmly.

“ _Clarke_ ,” she bemoaned, “don't--!”

“I'm not done with you yet.”

Kissing her again, Clarke slid her hand between Lexa's thighs and thrust into the slick heat waiting for her. Lexa groaned against her mouth as Clarke began a frenetic and unyielding pace. She stayed there, breathing hotly against Lexa, kissing her over and over until Lexa was too far gone to focus on kissing her back. Clarke moved back down her body and used her mouth in rhythm with her fingers now.

Lexa's moans were louder than ever and Clarke knew she was close. She watched, enraptured and fascinated as Lexa's back arched, her lips parted in a silent scream and she buried her face half into the pillow, still clutching the edge of the bed. She came undone, her body tightened and froze for a moment that seemed to last much longer than it did, then she melted back into the soft bedding. Clarke brought her down slowly and gently before finally stopping altogether. Lexa was breathing hard. The most vulnerable little sounds emitted from her throat, the kind that made Clarke want to cry and take her all over again. She made her way back up and urged Lexa onto her back before kissing her thoroughly. Clarke rested most of her weight on top of her, letting herself feel every inch of Lexa's overheated, soft, solidity underneath her.

“For someone who is so used to giving orders, you're pretty good at following them,” she said teasingly, meeting her lips in slow, lazy kisses.

Lexa's eyes were heavy lidded and unfocused. "It is not...the same, Clarke,” she struggled between breaths to get out.

“You're right. It's _way_ better," Clarke said smugly.

“Is that what you desire of your lovers?”

“No. Just you.”

Lexa's eyes flew open and met Clarke's with startling clarity. She rolled them over and leisurely stretched herself out on top of Clarke, then leaned down with a wolfish grin and kissed her deeply. Clarke gasped with pleasure when Lexa lightly bit down on her bottom lip. Her body was mad with arousal, already on the knife's edge of pleasure, she just needed a little more... She wrapped her legs around Lexa and ground her hips against her a little desperately. Searching for something to ease the throbbing that tormented her.

“The Sky-Girl wishes to be my master? To have me at her command?”

“The _Sky-Girl,_ ” Clarke shot back tauntingly, raking her nails gently down Lexa's back, “already has you at her command.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows, daring Lexa to deny it. They were both smiling, but something changed in that moment. The teasing disappeared as Lexa peered down at her thoughtfully. Her eyes were still dark with desire, her lips kiss-swollen, and she was still breathing a little unsteadily. Clarke was quiet as she watched the tiny changes flicker through Lexa's expression. After a long moment, the furrow in Lexa's brow became smooth and she gave a slow nod. There was no smile now, just naked truth. What had started out as some lighthearted banter had become so much more poignant.

This was simple acknowledgment.

Yes.

Lexa belonged to Clarke.

The very thought had her heart racing out of control and only part of it was because Lexa was naked on top of her.

Words seeming to fail her, Clarke reached up and pulled Lexa down for a bruising kiss that left them both breathless.

Lexa shifted on top of her and her arms stretched above Clarke, under the pillows. Her body went rigid.

It all happened so quickly, it took Clarke a few moments to realize all that had happened.

Lexa yanked away from Clarke, there was the loud bang of a gunshot, distant yelling from outside the room, and a yelp of pain.

“Move and I will cut deep, _natrona_ ," Lexa hissed lowly.

Lexa was unabashedly naked, kneeling half off the bed, with a blade to a hooded stranger's throat. She had the person's wrist seized in her grip. Their arm stuck out awkwardly in a way that told Clarke that it was plainly broken. There had been a gun in that hand, but it was on the floor now.

Clarke could only blink in astonishment. She was utterly shell shocked.

Lexa had sensed the presence of the intruder, slipped her hand under the pillows where she kept a dagger, and disarmed the would-be assassin in one swift movement.

There was a reason why she lasted so long in her trial.

Lexa's guards came bursting in, shouting for their _Heda_. Lexa barked orders in _T_ _rigedasleng_. Clarke was vaguely aware of the fact that they were both quite naked and exposed to the several sentries that had rushed in. Was the assassin here for her or for Lexa? Or both of them?

They seized the attempted murderer and dragged them over to the middle of the room, forcing them down onto their knees. A large hooded cloak covered their face from view. Lexa looked back to Clarke, raking her eyes over her to check for any sign of injury. Still too shocked to speak, Clarke only nodded to confirm that she was okay.

Okay? Was she really okay? Physically unhurt, sure. _Okay_? Not so much.

She had been relaxed, unguarded, completely safe, and all of it had been cruelly ripped away in single moment.

They would never be safe. She should know that by now. Lexa clearly did.

If Lexa hadn't been on guard, staying aware of their surroundings, at least one, if not both, of them would be dead by now. Clarke just didn't understand how this intruder had made their way into the palace and slipped past every single sentry...

Lexa seemed to be having the same thought as she slipped on her gown, not seeming embarrassed in the least to be caught nude, and was roughly grabbing a few of the guards, speaking harsh and low in their faces. She was demanding answers from them first while the assassin was bound and kneeling on the floor, groaning from the pain of a broken arm and probably some other solid blows that had been delivered in order to subdue them.

Clarke was not as comfortable with being totally on display for a bunch of large, battle hardened warriors filling Lexa's room so she pulled the sheet around her modestly as she searched the floor for her clothes, pulling on a pair of pants that were actually Lexa's, but she managed to find her own shirt. In her search, she also came across the gun that the intruder had dropped. The one with a bullet meant for them.

It had been a long time since Clarke touched a gun. She hadn't had one since she buried hers before joining the Tree People Nomads. She didn't want to touch one even now, but...a _gun..._

Not a knife. Not an arrow. Not a sword. Not poison.

Clarke held the hot metal in both hands, feeling the uncomfortably heavy weight of it again. The acrid stench of gunpowder from the freshly fired weapon made her stomach turn.

It was a _gun_.

Only people from the Ark and Mount Weather carried guns. Since every man, woman, and child from Mount Weather was dead...dead at Clarke's hand...that left the Ark. Her people. It was one of their guns.

Clarke turned back to watch the scene before her in abject terror of what she might find.

Disgusted by the failure of her sentries, Lexa had turned away from them, and was focusing on the intruder now. In one swift, hard motion, she shoved the hood back and grasped the person's hair on the top of their head, yanking them back painfully to expose their face to the glowing firelight from the torches the guards carried.

He gasped at the suddenness of it, but did nothing else. Panting heavily, grim lipped, eyes set in fierce determination.

Clarke's heart sank in despair.

“ _Bellamy_.”


	26. Devotion

Despite his head being held back by Lexa's powerful grip, he tried to look at Clarke, tried to meet her eyes.

Lexa seemed to be just as surprised as Clarke, but didn't relent.

“You wish to kill me, Bellamy of the Sky People?”

“You deserve to die,” he spat in a raspy voice.

Clarke finally managed to gather her wits and scrambled off the bed, throwing herself down on the floor next to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Clarke--” Lexa began, but Bellamy was already answering.

“She betrayed us! They told me she had found you and taken you to _Polis_. I came for you, Clarke.”

He looked so broken and helpless with those wet brown eyes staring at her, pleading.

She sucked in a breath at the sudden wave of pain the reminder brought.

Too similar. Too much.

_'I did it to save you.'_

“She didn't take me, Bellamy! I went with her because I wanted to.”

“Clarke, step away,” Lexa ordered firmly.

She looked up at her lover in a panic. Lexa would kill Bellamy for this. He made an attempt on the Commander's life. Grounder law demanded death as a penalty for such crimes.

“Lexa, don't do this, please don't do this!” she begged wildly. “He didn't know! He didn't mean to!”

“ _Step_. _Away_.”

Lexa's voice was harsh and low. When Clarke wouldn't move, Lexa gestured for one of the guards to pick Clarke up and take her forcibly. Clarke shouted and struggled in vain.

“ _Heda_ , let us bring him to the Pit,” the head sentry said. “He will suffer greatly before his execution.”

“No.”

Clarke heard the simple command and stopped struggling.

She watched Lexa with bated breath.

_Would she? Would she really?_

“Bind him to the post over there. Break his other arm. He won't be escaping any time soon.”

Clarke had no sooner cried, “No, don't!” before the crack of bone breaking whipped through the air and Bellamy yelled in agony. Tears streamed down Clarke's cheeks to see him in such pain. She tried to go to him again, but she was still being held back by one of the guards.

They dragged him over the wall where a post stood and roughly secured him there. Lexa watched passively until it was finished.

“Leave us,” she ordered with a flick of her hand.

The sentries seemed reluctant, but since their ineptitude had already angered the Commander enough, they were too afraid to speak out against her now, in case she decided their failure to protect her warranted a harsh penalty for them as well.

The one holding Clarke released her unceremoniously, but she didn't run to Bellamy's side this time. Instead she stayed where she was, waiting for them to leave, her gaze darting back and forth between Lexa's body, taught with fury - her face a stony mask - and Bellamy, who was pale and sweating, his breathing uneven as he tried to cradle his useless arms against his body.

The moment the door closed behind them, Lexa whirled around and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at her.

“You have precious moments to spare. Speak true. Why did you try to kill me?”

“You took Clarke.”

“Bellamy--” Clarke began to say, stepping forward, but Lexa held her hand up firmly.

“Perhaps that is what you believed at first, I will grant you that, but you knew better when you arrived here. Why didn't you change your mission? You don't thirst for justice, I can see it in your eyes. _Tell me._ ”

Clarke was bewildered at first, but then she realized that Lexa was right. Even if Bellamy hadn't somehow discovered the truth about Clarke and Lexa's relationship in his search, all through _Polis_ , even managing to find his way into Lexa's stronghold, into Lexa's very own room, he would have to have been there to at least hear some part of their... _conversation..._ shortly before he stepped forward with a gun. Clarke certainly hadn't looked or sounded like any kind of prisoner.

“You kidnapped her. You brainwashed her!” he said stubbornly, but he couldn't look at Clarke when he said it.

Lexa squatted down next to him, peering at him carefully. “No,” she said with a slow shake of her head. “I told you to speak true and yet all you offer are lies. This is not what you believe. I will give you one more chance. _Why_?”  
  
“What difference does it make? I tell you and you'll let me live?” His chuckle rattled hollow in his chest. “You're going to kill me either way.”

“One is slow. The other is swift. I could show you mercy for your honesty.”

“A merciful _death_?” He rolled his eyes. “Go float yourself.”

Lexa snatched his hair in a flash and had a blade to his throat again, pressing so hard she'd already drawn blood. He gasped and whimpered.

“Enough!” Clarke yelled. “Lexa, stop it!” She pushed Lexa's arm down, the knife safely away. “He doesn't know what he's doing. He thought you were hurting me.”

Lexa exhaled harshly, releasing him. When she stood up straight again, facing Clarke, her nostrils flared angrily.

“Didn't know what he was doing? Clarke. _Think._ Bellamy didn't come here to rescue you. He came to _take you back_.”  
  
Clarke shook her head. “You're not making any sense. This isn't some _ploy_ to get between us, Lexa! He thought he was saving me.”

“Did you?” Lexa turned down to him again. “Did you think you were saving her? Even after you heard our private conversation? Our lovers' whispers in each others arms? Her moans and sighs of pleasure at my touch? Did you still believe you were _saving_ her then?”

Bellamy glared at her fiercely, clenching his jaw, before finally turning away. He said nothing.

Clarke didn't understand it in the least.

“That doesn't make any sense! Bellamy, tell her! Tell her you misunderstood! Tell her that--”

She stopped herself.

Lexa was right. Bellamy himself had all but admitted the words aloud.

He was going to kill Lexa even while knowing Clarke was...

She stumbled back awkwardly and collapsed onto the bed. The gun dropped from her hands onto the floor with a heavy thud. She hadn't realized she was holding it the whole time.

“Why?” she whispered at last, broken.

“You don't belong here.”

Tears spilled over and she choked back and sob, unable to look at him. Bellamy was going to die and it was going to be Clarke's fault. Because he didn't understand. He didn't know what she was doing. Because she left them. He didn't know what _Polis_ was like. He didn't know what Lexa was like. If Clarke hadn't been so determined to leave them behind, this never would have happened. She could have explained it, reassured them, showed them what she saw and convinced them to believe as she did. That was what she was going to do today with her mother and Kane. But it was too little, too late.

Clarke turned up to Lexa. “I know what the law is,” she said in a strained voice, “but I am begging you, Lexa, _please_. Don't do this. Don't take another one of my family from me.”

“I do not do this to _you_ , Clarke, it is the law, and as Commander, I am duty bound to uphold the law.”

“Whatever delusions he is acting under right now, it doesn't matter, he's still my family. _My people_. I owe him my life...my life a dozen times over. We _both_ do. You never would have gotten your people out of the Mountain without him. I wouldn't have been able to win the war against Mount Weather without him. We both owe him. Give him his life, Lexa, as payment of that debt.”

“Don't bother, Clarke, she'll never--”

“Shut up, Bellamy!” she snapped. “Shut up or I'll gag you, I swear I will.”

“It's not that simple,” Lexa replied, ignoring his outburst. “My guards...they witnessed his attack...”

“They don't know what they saw. Tell them it was a misunderstanding.”

She didn't look convinced and turned away from Clarke, pacing the room slowly with her head lowered.

“You see what she's like!” Bellamy snarled. “She'll kill me no matter what you say because she's an animal! A fucking savage without a soul – willing to torture and murder anyone who gets in the way of what she wants. You saw what she was willing to do to Raven! What she did to her own man! She would have tortured and murdered Finn if you didn't get to him first. _Clarke_ , she left you to die in the middle of a battlefield!”

Clarke rose from the bed and delivered a swift backhand to his cheek.

“ _Shut. Up. Bellamy,_ ” she said through gritted teeth. “I am trying to save your goddamn life. Think of Octavia. Are you really ready to leave her alone in this world? For this? Your stupidity?”

He stiffened at his sister's name, but his will didn't waver. “If I die, it'll be because of _her_ , Clarke. Not me.”

Lexa picked up her sword that was resting on the nearby table and unsheathed it in one smooth stroke.

“Lexa, no--!”

Clarke reached out to stop her, but Lexa was too quick. She turned the sword around and brought the hilt down solidly on Bellamy's skull.

He slumped against the post, unconscious, with his chin touching his chest.

Lexa sheathed her sword once again and tossed it aside in frustration as she went back to pacing.

Clarke watched her in wonder, looking back to the unconscious but still breathing Bellamy, and again to Lexa who was walking with clenched fists and a furrowed brow.

That's when she realized it.

Lexa was trying to think of a way to _spare him_.

If it were any other person, any other situation where an attempt on her life was made, Lexa wouldn't have hesitated. They would have been thrown in the Pit...whatever that was. Clarke shuddered to think of what such a thing would be. But she had Bellamy secured, ordered the guards to leave, and even though he had admitted to wanting her dead and not for purely altruistic motives... Lexa was still _trying_.

A powerful wave of emotion washed over her, bringing tears to her eyes again for an entirely different reason. She was so overwhelmed by this incredible show of devotion...one that she never expected, never thought was possible from someone like Lexa. Not for her. Not for anyone. Clarke reached out and stopped her from pacing. She took Lexa's face in her hands, cupped her cheeks, and pressed a brief, but fierce kiss to her lips before bringing their foreheads together. Lexa was breathing hard against her, but she accepted the comfort and gripped Clarke's hips tightly, bringing her closer.

“Whatever happens...” Clarke said quietly, “however this ends, I won't forget this. I won't forget what you're doing for me.”

Lexa looked at her worriedly. “I don't think I can save him.”

“I think you want to try.”

Lexa clenched her jaw tightly before lowering her eyes and nodded.

“He protected you when I didn't. Regardless of what he tried tonight...you're right, I owe him a debt.”

Clarke sighed and moved away from her, drifting back towards Bellamy's slumped figure.

“I don't understand what he was thinking. It's one thing to think I was here as a prisoner, but he _saw_ us. He _heard_ us! And still he tried... He has always done what he thought was right, for himself, for his sister, and then for our people, but this is different. He was making a choice for me. A choice I never would have tried to make for him.”

“Clarke, he admitted in front of the sentries that he wanted me dead. When your people arrive later, they will take the brand of the 13th clan, and Bellamy will be subject to my law.”

“My mother will never agree to become the 13th clan if you execute him.”

Lexa closed her eyes, brow furrowing again in deep frustration.

“Will you pardon him?” Clarke asked as calmly as she could.

“I can't.”

“Well, you can't kill him, Lexa.”

“Actually, I can.”

And Clarke's moment of hope faded away with that simple statement and despair reigned again. She covered her mouth with her hand to force herself to be silent, not to scream, not to sob... Another man that she loved would die because of her.

Lexa turned around, facing the shuttered windows for a long moment in silence before she looked back to Clarke.

“His heroic actions that saved lives at Mount Weather might be the only thing that stands between him and death. If he admits that he came here with no intention of killing me, that instead it was a misunderstanding that led him to try to free you...I think I can propose a lesser punishment. One that your people might accept.”

“He lives?”

“Yes.”

Clarke nodded fiercely. “Then he'll admit it or I'll cut out his damn tongue myself.”

“I must speak with Indra before news gets any further. And deal with the sentries who witnessed it. They will be censured for this inexcusable breach.” She collected her clothes and started to dress in her usual formal garb.

“If not death, how will he be punished?”

“We can discuss it later, Clarke. I have little time to keep this under control. If word gets out...my hand will be forced. All I can do is try to keep him alive right now.”

Clarke knelt before Bellamy, checking his pulse. Relief filled her heart to find it steady under her fingers. She looked over his broken arms worriedly, but the breaks didn't puncture the skin. Just from what she could see of the angle, they looked like clean fractures. At least, she hoped they were. The sooner she could set the bones, the better. Her mother would be able to help when she arrived later, but Clarke couldn't wait until then. The pain would be too much for him.

“I need Enock.”

Lexa looked back at her over her shoulder.

“His _arms_ , Lexa,” she elaborated.

Lexa shook her head. “Enock will not treat him. Bellamy is a traitor and an enemy of the state now.”

“But he needs--!”

“I will have another healer sent with supplies and treat him, but it will not be someone as esteemed as Enock. You must not let Bellamy speak to him, Clarke. Do not give away your emotion. The less people know about your feelings for him, the better. He must appear to be just another one of your people. An imbecilic soldier.”

“You don't want them to think you're saving him because your girlfriend asked you to.”

Lexa didn't seem to know the term, but she got the general meaning of it, and nodded. She finished the clasps on her jacket and pulled on her boots. Clarke noticed how messy her hair still was, a few braids had come undone from their earlier activities. She left the unconscious Bellamy and had Lexa sit down as she attempted to fix them. Her hands were still unsteady and clumsy when it came to braiding, she was a poor novice, but she wanted to try anyway. Lexa didn't mind.

“Whatever we may be here...” Lexa said softly, looking around the bedroom, “it is ours to know, but _out there_ , with my people, Clarke... _Wanheda_ cannot be seen giving _Heda_ commands.”

“ _Our_ people, Lexa.”

Lexa glanced back and smiled gratefully, lowering her eyes in acknowledgment.

“I understand,” Clarke said. “What will you tell Indra?”

“Exactly what transpired. Perhaps she will be able to offer some insight as to what happened when she brought the proposal to _Skaikru_. Maybe there was a chance of misunderstanding. If there was, it will help Bellamy's case.”

Clarke let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. That was Lexa's way of saying that she would order Indra to vouch for Bellamy. Indra would not be able to call for his death for bringing a gun into the Commander's room...as she would very much want to.

“Will this really work? If she can say that there was chance there was a mistake and if Bellamy swears he never intended to hurt you...you can stop the execution?”

“If it does not, I have done my best,” she said firmly. “I just executed Nia, Clarke. I declared war on _Azgeda_. I brought the _Skaikru_ to our table. Every action I take in the coming weeks will determine who will follow me and who will falter. If the ambassadors demand his life as punishment for his crime, I must abide by it. It will be seen as intolerable weakness and disobedience of our laws. After all that as happened in this past month, I cannot--”

Clarke let go of Lexa's hair and jumped to her feet, unwilling to hear the end of that sentence. “It will _work_ ,” she said, mostly for herself. “It has to.”

Lexa slipped a hand between Clarke's thighs and grasped her leg, holding her tightly.

She needed that anchor of touch.

They both did.

“I will do what I can.”

“I know.”

“If he dies...will you forgive me?”

Clarke's eyes fell closed and the room spun around her.

“Yes.”

And she would.

Lexa's hold on her never slackened. “You asked me not to take _another_ one of your family... That means you still blame me for Finn's death.”

“I blame Finn for Finn's death. But...you will always be entwined in that, Lexa. In what I had to do...”

“As I will always be entwined in Bellamy's fate today.”

Clarke said nothing and sat down again beside Lexa, continuing to braid Lexa's hair, helping her prepare to face her people. It hadn't been a question because they both knew the answer.


	27. Rushing Back In

Clarke sat on Lexa's bed, there was about ten feet between them, but it might as well have been a chasm. Bellamy groaned, slowly coming back into consciousness as Clarke sat there, watching him. The longer she watched him...the angrier she grew.

“Why did you do this? Why didn't you trust Indra?”

Bellamy's head lolled about heavily until he finally got the strength to lift it. “Indra?” he mumbled, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“When Indra delivered our message. You didn't believe her?”

“I haven't seen her in months.” He grunted. There were bullets of perspiration on his forehead and his face was covered in a light sheen of sweat as the pain burned through him. He spoke through gritted teeth and gasps. “I was on patrol when we came across a group of people who said that _Wanheda_ had been captured. I left right away.” He stopped to breathe, taking gulping breaths. He was growing paler by the second. “There were whispers everywhere about how you'd been taken back to _Polis_.”

“The Queen of the Ice Nation captured me, Bellamy. Lexa saved my life. She killed her and started a war because of it.” Clarke said flatly and stood up, starting to close some of the distance between them. “Lexa has extended an offer for us to become part of her coalition, for us to become the 13th clan. If we do that, we can stand with the Grounders together instead of letting the Ice Nation massacre us."

Bellamy tried to keep his head up to look at her, to listen, but he was clearly fading in and out.

Clarke knelt in front of him, getting right into his face without a hint of compassion.

“We don't stand a _chance_ against their army alone. We need this. We need this to win the war and gain peace at last. What you've done tonight? Trying to kill Lexa? You have jeopardized _everything_ \-- all of our lives –- by storming into her bedroom with a gun!”

“I wasn't going to kill her.”

“You said she deserved to die!”

“SHE DOES!”

Disgusted, Clarke jumped back to her feet and moved away from him.

“I didn't know what I would find, Clarke,” he insisted. “I wanted to get you out of here, but my plan wasn't to kill Lexa.” He eyed her knowingly. “I was going to let _you_ do it. Excuse me for not knowing that you'd be _literally screwing_ the enemy!”

Clarke inhaled sharply, whirling around on him. “You heard us, Bellamy. I know you did. How long were you waiting there?”

He didn't answer.

Clarke's balled her hands into fists tightly and held them at her side as she glared at him.

“ _How_. _Long?”_

He shifted uncomfortably. “I posed as one of the sentries. Followed them through the maze until I got close enough to what they said was the Commander's quarters.”

His body was beginning to tremble from the sheer exertion it took to keep his wits about him with two broken bones.

“I started a fight between two of them, causing a distraction so I could slip away. The ones posted at Lexa's door went to break up the fight and they left one guy behind. I knocked him out and found a side door. When I went in, I saw...”

“You saw me in bed with her,” Clarke finished plainly for him. “Was I still a _prisoner_ to you then?”

“She's brainwashed you, Clarke!” he shouted. “For all I knew, she'd forced herself--”

“Don't you _fucking_ dare,” she hissed venomously.

He had the good sense to appear sheepish.

“Look, I just waited until there was a better...” he stumbled, embarrassed, “until...I could...there was...” He exhaled harshly and just got it over with. “Until there was an opening for me to get her."

Clarke stared at him with her mouth agape in utter disbelief.

“You mean you waited until I wasn't _on top_ of her anymore,” she said incredulously.

_This wasn't happening._

_This could not actually be happening._

She ran her fingers through her hair, stunned, and scrubbed her face harshly.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

“I wasn't going to kill her,” he repeated.

“You had your finger on the trigger!”

“She's lethal, Clarke! Of course I had my finger on the goddamn trigger!”

“So, what, you were going to hold a gun to her head and force her to leave me alone? Have us escape together?”

“Yes!”

There was a knock on the door. Clarke knew it was the healer Lexa promised and she yelled for him to wait.

“You're a bastard. You saw me with Lexa and you didn't like that. You didn't like that I was with her and so you decided to take matters into your own hands. I am not Octavia and you will never be able to make choices for me.”

“You're not thinking clearly, Clarke. That's what we've always been for each other – there to keep each other in check. You've gone off the rails! I tried to save you and instead I'm tied to a post with broken bones and you're just standing there! Letting it happen!”

“You're the one who put yourself here!” she shouted angrily, her hands flying wildly. “You don't even have a clue what you've done, all that you've endangered, just for your _ego_!”

“I did what was _right_! I came for you! You abandoned us, but I still came for you! And now I find out you've just been here with her...”

“I don't have to explain myself to you!” Clarke snapped. “Bellamy, I left because I _had_ to. I told you that. I lived by myself for _months_. And then I came here, of my own free will, brokering peace for our people, preparing us for a deadly war, while you played solider games--”

“ _Brokering peace_?” He scoffed. “Is that what Grounders call it? Looked like you were enjoying politics a bit too much there, Princess.”

Clarke backhanded him. _Hard_.

Bellamy didn't look at her. She spun around and flung the door open.

“He's all yours,” she spat.

The healer was dirty and looked, as well as reeked, like he'd been pickling in Monty's moonshine for years, but he had supplies and he appeared confident, if not indifferent to the situation. He simply glanced by Clarke, discerning that she was not the injured party, and went straight for Bellamy.

“Give him something to knock him out,” she said sourly. “I don't want him conscious for the next few hours.”

The healer didn't even looked at her, just shrugged in acknowledgment, and pulled out a vial from his satchel. Bellamy was shouting in protest, trying to get away, but he couldn't budge an inch with how tightly they bound him to the post. The healer grabbed Bellamy's face in one hand and when Bellamy wouldn't open his mouth, he punched him hard in the gut, forcing him to gasp from the blow, and then forced the liquid down his throat.

Clarke didn't care how roughly he was being treated. Right now, she couldn't even stand the sight of him.

She was about to turn away altogether when she noticed the radio peeking out from under his cloak. He grunted and tried to fend off the healer, then turned to her as she came towards him, but she never so much as glanced at him.

“Clarke, don't leave me—”

The healer shoved some dirty rags into his mouth and went about his work. He seemed quite adept at handling unwilling patients. Clarke wondered briefly if he was the Grounder version of the Sky Box physician, delivering medical care to prisoners.

She snatched the radio off Bellamy's belt, never seeing the desperate pleading in his eyes, and left the room, letting the healer do whatever he wanted. It went against her instincts so wholly to pass over medical care like this to a complete stranger, let alone a _Trikru_ stranger, but she didn't care. If Bellamy suffered little more, he deserved it. Abby would be there in a few hours and she would take care of him then. The healer really couldn't do much more damage and Clarke knew he wasn't thinking about amputation because he'd been pulling out material for splints. He was alive and that's all she owed him.

* * *

Clarke's stomach rolled as she heard his muffled groans behind the thick door. Shaking her head, she went into her own room across the hall, slamming the door behind her as quickly as she could. Anything to put space between them. Space and walls and miles.

It was really sinking in.

The shock was fading and reality was setting in.

The "reality" was that Lexa was almost killed by one of Clarke's people.

 _Bellamy_ almost murdered _Lexa_.

He held a gun to Lexa's head, with his finger on the trigger, as she was kissing Clarke.

_As she was making love to her._

Lexa had protected herself. She was safe. In the heat of the moment, all Clarke could see was the danger Bellamy was in. Now, she was being hit with the sick realization of how badly Lexa's life had been endangered. She begged Lexa not to kill Bellamy because she loved Bellamy. He was a part of her. A part of her survival. A part of her life that would never be erased. But Bellamy would have taken Lexa from her in a heartbeat. He _wanted_ to. He _tried_ to.

One split second more and it would have been too late. Instead of Lexa being off trying to figure a way to get Bellamy out of this mess, the boy who tried to kill her without remorse, she would be dead right now. Clarke would have been cradling a limp and lifeless Lexa, covered in her blood as it soaked into the bed they shared. Cold and gone when it had just been so warm and full of life only moments before.

Clarke couldn't even imagine it. Not having Lexa? Not seeing her every day. Not hearing her Commander's voice, superior and all knowing. Not seeing the glint in her eyes as she teased Clarke. Not having her reassurance, gentle and firm, in her ear. Not able to know the touch of her hands against her bare skin, to hear her moan, to know what it is to fall asleep warm and safe and so very loved in her arms. Not being able to feel strong with her. Angry at her. Weak with her. Happy with her.

Would she survive Lexa being taken from her? It seemed so impossible to imagine a scenario where that would happen. Even though, _intellectually,_ Clarke understood fairly well the constant danger Lexa was in every day of her life. She knew how close she'd come during her trial. She remembered the terror that seized her very soul when that spear went into Lexa's side, how her blood flew so easily and soaked through Clarke's clothes in a matter of seconds.

Yes, she'd seen Lexa come close to death and yet it never truly entered her mind that Lexa could _die_.

Lexa was untouchable. Infallible. Whatever was thrown at her, she would survive it.

Lexa was immortal.

She had to be.

Clarke wouldn't know what to do if she wasn't.

As worried as she was for Bellamy, she hated him with every fiber of her being right now because he nearly destroyed one of the most precious things Clarke had ever known. He tried to tear it away, and in doing so, tear away her whole world.

Clarke _hated_ him.

Whatever his reasons were, whatever misunderstanding had happened, she hated him. She would do anything to save him, but, god, she if she never saw his face again, it would be too soon.

The radio in her hand was heavy and foreign, but she knew what she had to do. She'd been running for too long and now it was all going to break through. She had no choice.

“Clarke for Raven, are you there? Over.”

She leaned against the back of her door with a sigh, letting her finger off the button as she waited for a reply.

There was none.

She held the walkie up again. “Raven, it's Clarke, are you there?”

Another minute went by and there was still silence.

Any semblance of patience Clarke had left vanished.

“RAVEN REYES, I KNOW YOU'RE THERE, SO FUCKING PICK UP THE RADIO RIGHT NOW!”

Breathing harder than she should be, she released the button, waiting.

“ _Well, a cheery hello to you too,”_ finally came a crackly reply. _“It's only been, what, seven months? Actually, it's kind of reassuring to know that you haven't mellowed in the least.”_

“Tell me you didn't know. Tell me you didn't help him.”

“ _What are you talking about?”_ she replied, genuinely confused. _“Wait. Where's Bellamy? Is he okay? Clarke, what's wrong? How did you get his radio?”_

“He tried to assassinate Lexa.”

There was a long silence.

“ _Tried to?”_

Tears pricked Clarke's eyes and she felt cold all of a sudden. She wanted Lexa back with her. She needed her nearby, just to feel her presence, to remind herself that she was still there, still warm, still very much alive and able to hold Clarke in her arms. Being alone in this room was almost too much to bear.

“ _Is he...is he..?”_

“He's still alive. But I don't know if he'll stay that way.”

“ _Thank God. Your Mom and Kane left for Polis yesterday. They should be there soon, they'll be able to do something to get him back.”_

“Raven!” she cried, starting to pace throughout the room. “Don't you get it? He tried to _murder_ the Commander of the Twelve Clans! He should be dead right now. It's a miracle he wasn't cut down where he stood. Why would you help him do something so stupid? I know you hate her, but I thought you understood...”

“ _I didn't help him do anything,”_ she snapped. _“Clarke, what the hell is going on? Your mom thinks Lexa's holding you prisoner. That's the only reason why she agreed to the summit. There's been rumors among the Grounders that you were kidnapped, that Wanheda, or whatever, was taken and then Indra showed up all sunny smiles and says you've just been chilling out all this time with the girl who betrayed you and abandoned us to die inside Mount Weather. It's not exactly adding up!”_

Clarke dropped the radio on her bed, picked up her canteen, and threw it as hard as she could against the wall. It didn't shatter or make any particularly satisfying sound other than a couple thuds when it hit the floor and sloshed water everywhere.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on controlling the absolute chaos that stormed within her, breathing deep, and focusing. Raven was calling her, but she tuned it out, just trying to even herself again until she was ready to pick up the radio again.

“You don't understand,” she said tersely, “and I don't have time to explain it to you. Where's Octavia?”

“ _You don't have time to explain it to me?”_ Raven echoed in bitter disbelief. _“You have been gone for seven-fucking-months, Clarke! We didn't even know for sure that you were still alive until Indra showed up a week ago! You've got nerve talking to me that way. I don't give a damn what you're going though or what's happening, but I deserve more and you fucking know it.”_

Clarke didn't have time for this. She didn't have the energy to focus on Raven's needs. She couldn't process anything else other than what was happening. And she needed to get this done.

“Where's Octavia?”

“ _Go float yourself!”_

Clarke sucked in a breath and closed her eyes.

“Raven,” she said soberly, “Bellamy will probably die today. He tried to kill someone and he was caught. I need to know where his sister is.”

There was silence for the longest time and Clarke wondered if she really had shut the radio off.

But then she was there again. Her voice staticky and tinny, nothing like the real Raven Reyes. She realized just then how much she truly missed Raven.

“ _Octavia went with them to Polis,”_ she said wearily. _“Lincoln too. He's like Abby's adviser now and Indra said the kill order was lifted so Abby and Kane wanted his help navigating the summit. Are you there now?”_

“Yeah, I'm in Polis.” Clarke sighed, dropping to the bed heavily and held the radio against her forehead.

“ _Are you safe?”_ Raven's voice was crackling and faint, but Clarke could hear the weight of her words.

They were both angry. They were both scared. They were both looking for answers.

“I'm safe.”

“ _Did the Commander kidnap you?”_

“No. She saved my life.”

There was another few beats of silence. Only Clarke's breathing filled the room.

“ _I didn't know Bellamy was going after you, Clarke. I actually thought it was a good thing he was on patrol when Indra was here... He hasn't been doing too hot lately. He and Gina started up a thing a few months ago and she ended it. It was messy for a while and Bellamy was taking it pretty hard. He was patrolling more and more. Last week, he told me he was going to stay out by a village in sector five – clear his head. I told him I would cover for him as long as he promised to check in with me at least once every day. And he did. I didn't know... Clarke, I swear I didn't know.”_

“I believe you.”

“ _I wouldn't have let him go if I thought he would try something so monumentally dangerous like that – and alone! We were all worried about you, but Kane trusted Indra. Lincoln thought it was unlikely that the Commander would take you like that, but he couldn't say for sure. He thought it had something to do with the Azgeda we've been seeing more and more of. Abby insisted that they take the offer and go meet the Commander to find out. She's been a wreck, Clarke...”_

Clarke couldn't hear that right now.

“So Bellamy never saw Indra?”

“ _No, he left before she arrived.”_

So he was telling the truth about that at least...

“ _Lexa's going to kill him?”_

It almost hurt to hear how tired Raven sounded.

“No. She's going to save him.”

“ _Why would she do that?”_

For me.

“She needs us. There's war coming with the Ice Nation. That's why my Mom and Kane needed to be here. We need to join forces otherwise all our people will be wiped out in a second against their army.”

“ _Okay, right, so then there's hope,”_ Raven reasoned. _“If the Commander needs him alive, we all know she'll make it happen. It's her thing. She does whatever she has to for herself.”_

“It's not like that. I mean...that's not...” Clarke lifted her finger off the button and growled to herself. After a deep breath, she tried again. “It's not that simple. Her people might not agree. There's...a lot to explain and I just can't...I can't right now, Raven.”

“ _What can I do to help?”_

“Nothing. There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry. But I'll handle it.”

“ _Clarke...”_

Her voice dropped out and Clarke thought the radio was malfunctioning so she checked the settings, but then Raven's voice was there again.

“ _What are you doing in Polis?”_

Clarke sighed and looked at the still dripping canteen in a puddle on the floor before lifting the walkie back to her mouth.

“I have no idea.”


	28. Justice

The healer knocked on her door sometime later and informed her that he was finished. Clarke went to check on Bellamy and saw that he was still unconscious, but now his arms were set into splints, perfectly angled. She checked his pulse by the artery in his neck first, then she checked each wrist and felt the bones to make sure they had been set properly and that his circulation was normal again. All was well. Abby might not have much to do when she saw him.

The ropes were cutting into him harshly, Clarke could see the red marks they were making, so she freed him quickly and laid him down on the floor on his back. Then she tied his feet together and bound him back to the post.

Satisfied that he was secure and stable for the time being, she left Lexa's room again and went back into her own. Raven had asked her to check back in later that day to keep her updated on Bellamy's situation and Clarke agreed before she set the radio down, unwilling to touch it again for a while.

Morning light shone through the shutters and Clarke realized that she should probably get dressed for the summit. There was nothing else she could do except wash up, change, and wait for Lexa to return with news of whether Bellamy Blake would live or die.

She was trying to make her hair somewhat presentable using the cloudy looking glass on the wall when she heard the door of the suite open and Lexa's footsteps in the hall.

Putting the comb down, she took a step towards her door when Lexa opened it all of a sudden. She didn't seem surprised to see Clarke in her own room again. She'd expected it.

“Your mother and the _Skaikru_ delegation have arrived in _Polis,”_ she said wearily. “They will--”

Clarke launched herself into Lexa's arms, hugging her fiercely. Lexa was taken off guard and she was stiff against her for a moment before relaxing into Clarke's embrace and slowly wrapped her arms around her in return. Clarke buried her face in the crook of Lexa's neck, breathing her in.

“I haven't told you what will happen to him yet,” Lexa said quietly.

Clarke tightened her embrace. “This isn't about him.”

Lexa leaned her head against Clarke's affectionately, using that moment to soak her in, just as Clarke was. Lexa's formal clothes were heavy and rough. Clarke wanted to tear it all away so that she could truly feel Lexa against her again, soft, bare, and strong, but they didn't have time for that so this would have to make do.

It was a long, comfortable silence in which they were both content to simply hold each other, knowing how rare such opportunities were for them to be together like this. Clarke took solace in Lexa's embrace, reminding herself that Lexa was alive, Lexa was safe, and Lexa was with her again. She didn't ever want to let go.

Unable to hold herself back anymore, Clarke lifted her head to meet Lexa's eyes, smiling when she saw the adoration that awaited her in those deep green eyes... Her hands went up to cup Lexa's face and she kissed her slowly...lingeringly.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered between kisses.

Lexa was in a daze from all of Clarke's attention. “For what?” she mumbled, still seeking Clarke's lips.

“For Bellamy. You could have died and it was my fault. I'm _so_ sorry.”

“We make our own choices, Clarke. You didn't force him to come here.”

“He did it because I ran away. Because I was a _coward_. And it almost cost you your life...”

Lexa kissed her fiercely, almost punishingly.

“I'm here, Clarke. And you will stop blaming yourself.”

“Can you stay _here_ for a little longer then?”

Lexa smiled softly. “As long as you need,” she murmured.

She kissed her lips sweetly, then the tip of her nose, and her forehead, before she brought Clarke back into her embrace. Clarke turned her head in and rested against Lexa's shoulder. She just needed a little more time. A little more time like this to have her warm and unfailingly strong against her. Instead of wrapping her arm around her now, Clarke dropped her hands to Lexa's sides and slipped her hands into hers, interlocking their fingers as they stayed pressed against each other.

“I was afraid, Lexa.”

She breathed in sharply. “I will keep you safe, you must know that by now.”

Clarke shook her head. “Not for _me_.”

“Oh,” Lexa uttered quietly. “Clarke, I can protect myself. Many foes, much stronger and smarter than Bellamy have tried to kill me. They failed as he did. They will continue to fail.”

“Good.”

“You needn't worry about your people. I promise that whoever my successor is, they will swear allegiance to the _Skaikru_.”

Clarke swallowed thickly. She hated that Lexa's first thought was that her fear was for the well being of her people. But how could she begrudge her for that? Clarke had given her no reason to believe anything else.

“This is not about my people.”

Lexa fell silent and Clarke could feel the other girl's muscles tensing against her, her grip tightening, as she waited for what was coming next.

“Lexa, you--”

“ _Heda, taim don kom op.”_

_Commander, it is time._

Lexa bit back her frustration with a growl and glared so fiercely at the attendant who interrupted them that the woman flinched as if she'd been struck.

“ _S-senronas hir em op gaf in stot au,”_ she said nervously.

_The a-ambassadors have gathered and they wish to begin._

“ _Weron Skaikru kamp raun?”_ Lexa asked tautly.

_Where are the Sky People?_

“ _Kapa sobwe na Indra.”_

_The city gates with Indra._

“ _Taim tel senronas osir set raun na kom op Skaikru,”_ she said, exasperated.

_Then tell the ambassadors we wait for the Sky People._

“ _Heda._ ” The attendant bowed dutifully and backed out of the room, leaving them alone once more.

Lexa turned back to Clarke.

“Guess that was as long as I needed,” Clarke said with a rueful smile.

Lexa was frustrated, but resigned to their duty. “We must go.”

She looked like she wanted to do anything but. Clarke definitely shared that feeling.

“The guards are going to take Bellamy to a secure area.”

“Your prison?” Clarke clarified.

Lexa lowered her eyes in affirmation.

“Is it the same thing as 'the Pit' they talked about before?”

“No, it is not.”

Clarke sighed in relief. At least he wouldn't be in some hellhole and he'd probably still be unconscious for a while longer.

“My mother and Octavia will want to see him first thing.”

“I will arrange it.”

Clarke nodded and drummed her fingers against her arm nervously. Lexa had moved away when she was talking to the attendant and Clarke didn't know if she'd be as receptive to closeness again when they were supposed to be on their way to the throne room already.

This was happening too fast. She just needed to wrap her mind around it.

Bellamy was going to be imprisoned and she was going to be face to face with her mother again after months of separation.

She could handle this.

Abby was not going to take the news of having to join the Coalition with Bellamy's punishment very well, but Clarke hoped that Kane and Lincoln's presence would be able to make a difference.

“No chance I could convince you to run away with me, right?” She chuckled awkwardly. “We could go now – it would be hours before anyone figures out we've really left. I've gotten the hang of this place and I know a really good secret exit...”

“Clarke.”

“Yeah, I didn't think so. Worth a shot?” she said with a grin, but when Lexa didn't seem to share her playfulness, she sobered thoughtfully.

And then it hit her.

Lexa pushed the hair away from Clarke's eyes, trying to distract her and lighten the moment, but Clarke wasn't having it.  
  
"You've never thought about running, have you?" she asked, already knowing the answer, peering into Lexa's eyes.  
  
“No.”  
  
Clarke stared at her in a mixture of awe and bewilderment.  
  
" _How_?” she whispered. “How could you never even just fantasize about it once...what it would be like... With all the pressure you've had on you from the time you were twelve. _Lexa_..."  
  
She sighed, realizing that Clarke wasn't going to let this one go.

"The Commander before me, my predecessor, he _abandoned_ his post,” she explained. “I was very young, but because of his selfish actions, I witnessed... _great suffering_.” Her voice grew thick and her eyes cloudy with the weight of memory. “Thousands perished in a series of bloody, senseless battles between the clans. People were ripped to shreds because chaos reigned with no master to guide them. I made a vow to myself that if I was chosen, I would never abandon my post as he did. I know all too well what would happen in my absence, Clarke. To entertain the notion of a different life is not possible. This is who I am, this is how it must be, and I will not leave them until it is time for my spirit to pass on.”

Clarke tried to take it all in, breathing deep, and nodded. Then she tilted her head to the side. “You're not planning on your spirit passing anytime soon, are you?”  
  
“I would hope to put it off a while yet...” Lexa said, a playful quirk in the corner of her mouth.  
  
“Do you think I was wrong to leave my people?”

Lexa considered it for a moment and spoke carefully, “I think you made the only choice you could. Your people _do_ need you, Clarke, but you have others to rely on. _Heda_ does not.”

“That didn't really answer my question.”

“You're _here_ , Clarke,” Lexa said firmly. “However it happened, I'm grateful for that. Now we must go, there is much to be done.”

She leaned in and kissed her chastely before turning to leave.

Clarke stayed rooted to the spot, trying to absorb all that had just happened, all that was going to happen. She stared after Lexa, watching the empty door that she'd just exited.

“Wait a minute...” she said, brow creasing, and went running after her. “Wha-! Lexa, that _still_ wasn't an answer!”

* * *

Clarke greeted her mother tensely and she tried to ignore how uncomfortable she was to have Abby hugging her and touching her. She couldn't refuse it though. Abby just wanted to know she was real, that she was safe, and alive. Octavia and Lincoln stood in the background while Kane was next to Abby.

Clarke had to repeat it several times before Abby finally seemed to accept that Lexa hadn't taken her prisoner. When she finally managed to convince her of that, she invited them all to sit down so that she could explain the situation with the _Azgeda_ , what had truly transpired, repeat Lexa's offer to join the Coalition, and finally...drop Bellamy on them. They refused to sit so Clarke stood rigid before them and went through it all. When she finished, they were all silent as if they'd been dealt a blow. Honestly, it was a blow...several of them.

Octavia shook her head angrily. “We can't let Lexa kill him.”

“He tried to kill her,” Clarke replied evenly.

She glared at Clarke. “He thought he was _saving_ you from her!”

“In the beginning he did,” she nodded, “but he found out otherwise when he arrived in _Polis_. He knew I wasn't her prisoner when he attacked, but he did it anyway. He admitted it.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he's Bellamy!” Clarke said bitterly. “He acts without thinking and decides what's best for other people on his terms. You know that even better than I do, Octavia.”

“Are you saying my brother _deserves_ this?” she hissed, moving closer to Clarke, tense as a snake ready to strike. Lincoln touched her side, reminding her wordlessly to stay in control of her emotions.

“Lexa is trying to reason with her advisers and Indra is in there now giving testimony on Bellamy's behalf. I don't know if it will work, but she's trying to find a way to show him mercy.”

“Why did the Commander not kill him at once?” Lincoln asked.

“She thought he was Ice Nation sent to assassinate her. She wanted him alive to extract information, but when we saw it was Bellamy...”

“We?” Abby echoed. “You were there? I thought you said he attacked her when she was sleeping.”

Every molecule in Clarke's body was screaming with her fight or flight response, but there was no going back from this and she wouldn't hide. Clarke held her ground and met her mother's eyes unflinchingly.

She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Abby heard what Clarke didn't say and she looked away, nodding slowly to herself. The judgment in her eyes was only one that a daughter could recognize from her mother, but Clarke didn't care. Abby didn't understand and Clarke had no desire to help her understand. It was only for her and Lexa to know.

Octavia had no patience for any of this.

“Where is he?” she demanded. “I want to see him now.”

“You can see him, but Mom, he's been hurt. You should go too.”

“ _Hurt_?” Octavia repeated, panicked. “Hurt how?”

“They broke his arms when they were subduing him.”

Octavia and Abby were horrified, Kane seemed sympathetic, but Lincoln was impassive...he knew that Bellamy was lucky to get away with only a couple broken bones.

“He _attacked_ the Commander,” Clarke reiterated, trying to impress upon them the gravity of his crime. “He snuck into the mansion, assaulted a sentry, and held a loaded gun to Lexa's head. And instead of realizing his mistake, he shouted that she deserved to die. The fact that he is alive at all, whether or not wholly intact, is nothing short of a miracle and Lexa's wisdom.”

“We understand, Clarke,” Kane said reassuringly, squeezing her shoulder.

That was when Clarke realized she had spoken rather passionately with few breaths in between, so she was breathing a little harder than she should have been. Lincoln was watching her with soft curiosity that made Clarke uncomfortable because he looked like he knew far more than he should.

Clarke looked between her mother and Octavia before waving one of the sentries over.

“Take them to the _Skaikru_ prisoner.”

“ _Sha, Wanheda_.” He nodded and started out of the room with Octavia close behind.

Abby barely had time to register this jarring development, whether it was Clarke being obeyed by the Grounders, being referred to by her title, or the fact that Clarke had referred to Bellamy as “the _Skaikru_ prisoner”, because she had to leave as well in order to catch up to them.

Clarke turned back to Kane and Lincoln.

“Is the _Azgeda Haimplana_ truly dead?” Lincoln asked, moving closer.

“Yes.”

He looked at Kane and some kind of understanding passed between them.

“Lexa is committed to this war?” Kane asked her.

“She's committed to ending it as quickly as possible.”

“ _Azgeda's_ army is the second largest--” Lincoln began, but Clarke cut him off.

“We're well aware of that. But there are pieces in place already. If that doesn't work, then I believe that our people will be instrumental in ending this. Alone, we would be destroyed in an instant, but if we have the numbers and our advanced weaponry...we will win this with as little bloodshed as possible. War is inevitable, but we have a way to survive it.”

“By swearing allegiance to Lexa.”

“And in doing so, she swears allegiance in return. We become her people. We would be under her protection. Our people would be safe from any other Grounder attacks. We would be granted the land that Arkadia stands on as our territory from the _Trikru_.”

“Lincoln?” Kane asked.

He stood with his hands behind his back and his shoulders squared in a warriors stance. “If _Skaikru_ truly wishes for peace and to create a long lasting life here, the Commander's Coalition is the only way. You retain your ways, your culture, your traditions, and you are given peace, trade, and prosperity, in return. But you sacrifice autonomy. The Chancellor will answer to _Heda_ and you will be subject to her law.”

“We agree to follow Lexa or we sign our death warrants,” Clarke said. “It's as simple as that.”

“Somehow, I don't think your mother will see it that way.”

“Then make her see it that way.”

“And Bellamy?”

“I don't know,” Clarke said simply. "But he cannot be a factor in this decision. It's about saving all of us, not one of us. Bellamy acted alone."

"We can't just abandon him."

"I haven't. But he will face justice for his crime, Kane, and the only person who can decide that right now is Lexa. So focus on our people. That's all you can do."

* * *

Lexa walked into the room that already held Clarke and the rest of the ambassadors, save the one from _Azgeda_. She sat down on her throne and raised her chin, waiting for them to be seated as well.

“The reason for this summit is to initiate _Skaikru_ into the Coalition,” she said formally, with a loud and authoritative voice. “Before we begin, we must settle another matter first: Bellamy _kom Skaikru.”_

Lexa still hadn't told Clarke what Bellamy's fate would be and Clarke didn't ask. She didn't want to know. She wanted to put off the burden of knowledge for as long as she could. She steeled herself against it, waiting for the ax to drop, waiting for the grief to swallow her whole. She may hate Bellamy for what he did, but she still loved him for what he was and what he'd done for her in their first few months on the ground. She was alive today because of him. Now she was going to find out what is was to lose him forever.

“The boy committed a grave offense, for which the punishment is death, however, his heroism in the battle for Mount Weather and his good intentions to rescue his leader must be taken into account. You have all heard Indra's testimony that he was not present with her message that Clarke was safe in _Polis_ after Queen Nia had captured her.”

Clarke dared to breathe, looking at her with wide eyes. Lexa sounded like she was...

“You're letting him live?” one ambassador burst out incredulously.

“The boy didn't just steal a trinket! He attacked the Blood Commander of the Twelve Clans. He cannot be tolerated to live! Why is this even a question?” another interjected.

“Oh? And what do the _Sankru_ want _Heda_ to do? Bury him alive? That's your answer to everything, Akseli!”

“That raiding party caused the deaths of two _Sankru_! They got what they deserved, Ilhar.”

“You--”

“The boy lives, the boy dies, who cares?” A younger woman cut off their bickering with an annoyed glower.

Clarke didn't recognize her, she was one of the new appointees as part of the regime change.

“He's a child and of no consequence. _Heda_ chooses mercy, it makes no difference to us, but the concern here is the initiation of _Skaikru._ ”

“You object to the assimilation, Jarunn?” Lexa said with a raised eyebrow.

“I am hesitant of strangers in our halls, _Heda_ ,” she replied. “But you are vouching for them and I put my trust in you.”

“ _Skaikru_ have no knowledge of our ways, our laws, and they have brought nothing but destruction,” Akseli, the _Sankru_ ambassador, said. “Why would we invite this into the Coalition?”

“It is _my_ Coalition and _Skaikru_ are a useful ally that will aid us in the coming days,” Lexa replied calmly. “As for our laws and our ways, they will learn. We will teach them.”

“It is an abomination!”

“Quiet down, Akseli,” Jarunn said with a wave of her hand. “I have heard the reports of _Skaikru_ technology. Would you not rather have them standing beside us than against us? Are we to fight a war on every front?”

“War? With those weaklings?” He scoffed. “We could cut them down in an instant.”

“You could _try_ ,” Clarke shot back hotly and glared at him.

“Enough,” Lexa interjected firmly. “The decision has already been made. _Skaikru_ will become the 13 th clan and you will accept it.”

“12th clan if there's anyone left of _Azgeda_ after all this...” Jarunn muttered.

“And what of the assassin?” Akseli demanded, red faced.

“You mean the _Sky Boy_?” Ihlar, the Lake People ambassador, snorted derisively.

Clarke stiffened.

“If this was any of our people, from any of our clans, you would not be sitting there offering mercy. They would be dead.” The ambassador who had spoken was another of the younger ones and he had been quiet until now.

Clarke remembered him from Lexa's quick introductory a few days ago to the titles and background of the other ambassadors. His name was Uzac and he was from the Broad Leaf clan. Lexa didn't like him, but she tolerated him more than some of the others.

“You are right,” Lexa replied. “But he was not born to the 12 clans. New to our laws. Has shown loyalty and bravery for his leader. No one was injured in the confusion. For this, I give _Skaikru_ a gift – his life – as we welcome them to the Coalition.”

The gnawing pit in Clarke's stomach disappeared and she looked at Lexa openly with gratitude, sucking air into her deprived lungs. Bellamy would live. He would _live_. From the moment Lexa yanked back that hood and Clarke saw Bellamy's face, she'd slowly seen the world around her losing color, fading... Another loss. Another life gone in her name. The boy who helped her, supported her, became her lifeline, was going to die. Now color was rushing back in, there was hope again, and the sinister whispers from the back of her mind, the ones that spoke of the Mountain, of Finn, of every single life Clarke had taken to be given her title of _Wanheda_ , were firmly shoved back down into the depths where Clarke did not have to listen.

Lexa had softened the blow with the ambassadors and used the _Skaikru_ initiation as a way to deflect attention from her decision to show “mercy”. Lexa saved Bellamy when Bellamy never would have returned such a favor. Clarke was in awe of Lexa, watching her as she commanded the room from her throne – seemingly effortless.

“ _A gift_?” Jarunn drawled, looking at Lexa.

Clarke snapped back into the glaring clarity of what was happening around her. There was the strangest sense of familiarity and playfulness between Jarunn and Lexa. None of the other ambassadors dared to speak to the Commander like that.

Clarke didn't like it.

“ _Skaikru_ gets a gift to join a Coalition that will mainly serve to protect them while my people were just told, ' _Glong raun ai sad in wan op!'”_

_Join me or choose death!_

Lexa rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “And what do you call fifty horses to the Plains Riders from the Tree People, Jarunn?”

“ _Deserved_ ,” she replied with a smirk, raising her eyebrow teasingly.

Clarke wanted to smack her across the face.

Lexa scoffed and returned her attention to all of the ambassadors. “It is finished. _Skaikru_ will join the Coalition and abide the terms of my rule. Bring in the delegation.”

Abby, Kane, Lincoln, Octavia, and a few of the Arkadia guards, came into the throne room. They bowed before Lexa and, with a look of understanding between Abby and Kane, Kane held out his arm to accept the brand. He hissed as the iron sizzled against his skin. Panting, he lowered his arm stiffly and stood before Lexa as straight as he could.

“We welcome _Skaikru_ as equals, in the spirit of friendship and harmony. We are eager to share our knowledge and ways with each other.”

“We share your sentiment, Commander,” he said. “ _Skaikru_ are--”

“What do you plan to do with Bellamy?” Abby interrupted him.

Lexa nodded in understanding, excusing Abby for her abrupt and indecorous manner. “Bellamy Blake has committed several crimes: trespass, assault, and treason. The penalty for such crimes is death. However, I mean to begin this union on good terms, so I will allow him to keep his life.”

There was an audible sigh of relief among them. Octavia closed her eyes and dropped her head with a smile.

“However, his offenses are too severe to go unpunished.”

This was the moment Clarke had been waiting for. His life she could beg for, but punishment was deserved, and something unavoidable. She had no idea what Lexa would require to match the crime.

“As such, I hereby declare Bellamy of the Sky People banished.”

Abby was startled, Kane seemed to expect it, Lincoln clenched his jaw, Octavia's eyes widened in horror, and Clarke was... _relieved_.

“He will not be accepted, sheltered, assisted, by any of the 13 clans. If he breaches the terms, he will be found and killed. The same fate awaits anyone who helps him.”

“He's banished from the city, yes, but surely you can't expect us to refuse him from rejoining his people?” Abby asked.

“You are now the 13th clan, Chancellor, so, yes, you _will_ refuse him.” The warning in Lexa's tone was clear. “He has violated several of our laws and his banishment is justice for his crimes. He will never return to _Skaikru_ in this lifetime.”

“That is not--!”

“ _Skaikru_ accepts your judgment, Commander,” Clarke said quickly, cutting off her mother.

Lexa lowered her head in acknowledgment.

“He will remain imprisoned and isolated until he has recovered from his injuries. You are his healer, you were able to examine him earlier,” she said, looking at Abby, “how long will he need?”

Abby drew up her shoulders. “For the fractures to fully heal...and for him to regain full mobility through intensive physical therapy, he will need at least three months, if not more.”

“He will have one.”

Aghast, Abby wanted to protest, but she was again interrupted with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“He'll make do,” Kane said calmly and nodded at Lexa. “We are grateful for your mercy, Commander.”

“You have taken the brand, Marcus _kom Skaikru._ As the leader of your clan, you must name an ambassador for your people who will remain here while you return to Arkadia. Whom do you name?”

Kane turned to Clarke. “Oh, I think we already named one, didn't we?”

Clarke nodded. _“Ai na ste Skaikru senrona...en nami, Heda?”_

_I will remain the ambassador for the Sky People..if it pleases, the Commander?_

She could have sworn Lexa smiled, but it was so faint and fleeting, she thought she might have imagined it.

“We are honored to welcome _Wanheda_ to our halls.”


	29. Secrets

Lexa dismissed the summit, inviting everyone to join in a feast later to celebrate the newly initiated clan. Abby and Octavia went back to see Bellamy while Kane and Lincoln left to speak with Indra privately. Some of the delegates lingered in the throne room, speaking amongst themselves. There were a lot of harsh whispers and side eyes in Clarke's direction, but she paid it no mind. The guards from Arkadia had split up, some went with Abby and Octavia, while the rest stayed with Kane and Lincoln. Clarke was the only _Skaikru_ in the room again and she could feel that weight most noticeably.

Lexa was busy. Many of the ambassadors were approaching her in succession, some were quick with their homage, but others seemed to take the opportunity to further show their disapproval with the _Skaikru_ joining the Coalition. Lexa's was expressionless, just a cool, calm demeanor, but Clarke knew her much better than that now. The more they tried to argue with her, the less patience she had. Clarke hoped for their own sake they would get the hint and shut their mouths before Lexa decided they were arguing _too_ much...

She was about to leave the room, just to get a few moments of quiet to herself after everything, when Jarunn approached Lexa. That stopped Clarke in her tracks. She tried to make it casual as she made her way back into earshot, pretending not to notice them as she stayed in the shadows.

“You handled yourself well today,” Lexa said.

“I have you to thank for the opportunity, _Heda_.”

“It is you that elevated your position, Jarunn. You gained the trust and respect of your leader as well as your people. I merely pointed it out.”

“Even still, I thank you. I will not let you down.”

Lexa nodded. “What news from your leader?”

Jarunn's tone shifted into something tighter. “She is angry. If it wasn't for the epidemic, she would be here herself to tell you how she objects to _Skaikru_ joining the coalition.”

“You will convince her otherwise.”

“Will I?”

Lexa straightened her back, lifting her chin. “Do you have something to say to me?”

Jarunn glanced around discreetly to see who remained in the room. Only Uzac and Akseli were there, speaking far on the other side of the room near the door with their respective attendants and the sentries were still at their posts. Clarke stepped back further into the shadows, behind a curtain, to avoid Jarunn catching her shamelessly eavesdropping.

Satisfied no one would overhear, Jarunn leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper, “Commander, are you certain about this? _Skaikru_ as the 13 th clan? The leaders are furious and their ambassadors agree with them. Then you pardon this boy who tried to kill you simply because he is _Skaikru_? They no longer whisper of weakness...they shout it. Even after the trial.”

“Is that what you believe, Jarunn? That I am weak?”

“Never,” she replied without hesitation and softened, “but I worry for you.”

“You're kind, but it is not necessary. Keep working and don't give too much away. You want them to think you're frustrated with me too.”

She pointedly looked Lexa up and down and raised an eyebrow. “I know frustration all too well with you, _Heda_...”

“ _Jarunn_ ,” Lexa chastised her with a fierce glower, shaking her head. She did not appreciating the unprofessional flirtatious manner that the girl was conducting herself with especially when there were still other ambassadors nearby. “The _Skaikru_ are an important part of the peace our people seek after all this time. You must have faith in me and convince the others of this as well. Besides, when have you ever known me to be _wrong_?”

Jarunn bit her lip, trying to hide the smile. “I could never say you are wrong, _Heda,_ because that would be _treason_.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, but chuckled all the same. “Very well then. I shall grant you a one time pardon in this instance. Go on, tell me when I was wrong.”

“Well,” she smirked, “there was that one time you bet me that I couldn't...”

“Abby wants to talk to you.”

Clarke's heart nearly leapt out of her chest and she gasped, looking at Octavia who had magically appeared out of thin air at her side.

“Huh?” she managed.

“Your _mom_ ,” Octavia elaborated, annoyed. “She's outside with the others. She wants to talk.”

“Then why doesn't she come in here?” Clarke snapped impatiently.

They both looked to Lexa who was now blushing from head to toe from whatever Jarunn said. Lexa looked both mortified and annoyed, while Jarunn looked like the cat that ate the canary.

Clarke's stomach flip flopped in the worst way.

“Abby doesn't want to be in the same room as the Commander right now. Neither do I, for that matter, but Lincoln...”

Clarke forced herself to turn away from the increasingly flirtatious encounter Lexa was having with her ambassador and focused on Octativa.

“What about Lincoln?”

“He explained it – how lucky Bellamy got – the lengths that Lexa went through to spare him. And I spoke to Bell. He's...” She swallowed thickly. “I don't know if it's the medicine they gave him or the fact that he's in pain, but he's just not himself. If he said even half of what he said to me, to Lexa...”

Clarke nodded tightly. “He's lost, Octavia. He thinks the world is the same as it was when we first stepped out of the dropship. He hasn't been able to change with the rest of us. Not yet.”

“He's still my brother.”

Clarke looked at her for a long moment and then pulled her further away from Lexa and the others, away from any potentially prying ears – including the guards.

“You want to go with him, don't you?” she whispered.

Octavia blew out a breath, unwilling to meet Clarke's eyes. “He doesn't want me to. And Lincoln...Lincoln wants to stay and help Arkadia.”

“If you go with Bellamy, you'll be exiled too. You've found a home now, Octavia. You've found a place where you belong. People who understand you and respect you. Don't give all that up for him.”

“He gave up seventeen years of his life for me.” She shrugged helplessly. “How can I leave him now? Never see him again?”

“I don't know what the future holds, O. I can't make any promises, but maybe with time, a few years, things will have changed and maybe there'll be a chance we can get him back. But right now? This is on him. This is something he needs to face alone.”

Her eyes widened. “You really think you can get Lexa to lift the banishment?”

Clarke was careful in her reply. “I think he's alive and as long as he stays that way and the terms of his exile are honored...there's a chance, however small. But it will be a long time, Octavia. He...” she sighed, “he _really_ messed this up.”

“You argued for Lexa before. You made it sound like you thought she was right.”

“I do think she's right.”

“Yet, you're already thinking of a way to get Bellamy back...”

Clarke blinked, stunned. She didn't even realize she'd been doing it.

“I...I think things change over time,” she said hesitantly. “I think Bellamy can change. I think circumstances can change. We learned it on the Ark. Nothing is permanent. Anyone can die. Anyone can live. I don't know what will happen, but this is something that Bellamy has to go through. It doesn't mean I'm abandoning him though. I couldn't do that to any of us.”

“Except Murphy.”

Clarke tossed her a dirty look. “He came _back,_ didn't he?”

Octavia crossed her arms tightly, hugging herself, as she looked at the floor. “I know you fought for him,” she said firmly. “I know you're angry with him and he's _definitely_ pissed at you, but you still got Lexa to show mercy, so...thank you for that.”

“Don't thank me. Lexa is the one who made it happen.”

Octavia's eyes narrowed and she glanced over at the Commander who had, thankfully, moved on to another delegate and Jarunn seemed to have left the throne room.

“She still banished my brother and broke both his arms. I wouldn't go that far.”

“I'll thank her for you then.”

Octavia looked at her oddly and waited a beat before asking, “Just what exactly is going on with you and Lexa?”

Clarke thought of Jarunn, how strikingly attractive she was, her brilliant smile as she gazed up at Lexa adoringly. She thought of Lexa's ruddy cheeks and playful banter.

“Hell if I know.”

* * *

Clarke spoke to her mother briefly before the feast began and then excused herself for the night. She wasn't hungry and she certainly did not feel like being subjected to her mother's endless queries and judgment of Clarke's choices. Particularly, Clarke's choice in regards to Lexa.

Abby didn't accept Bellamy's banishment, but she was more focused on helping him heal as quickly as possible at the moment. Kane and Lincoln were still reasoning with her about why it was necessary, if not crucial, that they abide by the terms Lexa set. Kane wanted to know more about what was happening with the _Azgeda_ so Lexa agreed to have Indra brief them the following morning. The _Skaikru_ would be granted guest quarters for the next few days while they remained in _Polis_.

Clarke found herself outside Lexa's stronghold and wandered through the streets of _Polis_ without worrying too much about where she was going. She kept presence of mind to not stray too far from the walls and, as always, her personal guards accompanied her.

It was a brisk evening, but there were fires burning everywhere. It filled an otherwise dark and cold night, with light, warmth, and laughter as people gathered close to talk and eat and enjoy the moment.

There was some shouting on the east side of the house, sounds of wood clacking and steel ringing. Curious, Clarke ventured over and found Lexa's young seconds-in-training hard at work in the firelight. There was no rest for them. There were many in the clearing, all paired off. The older ones used swords, while the younger ones had dummy swords and quarterstaff's. Clarke's attention fell on three of them that were facing off against a younger boy, who was maybe ten at most.

They all had quarterstaff's and it was three on one. An elder warrior stood nearby, watching over them, so Clarke knew this was a training exercise and not just bullies ganging up on him. The boy was fending off his attackers well, but he couldn't manage to gain the upper hand enough to go on the offensive. After several successful deflective blows, he succumbed, taking some brutal hits, and had his feet swept out from underneath him. Blood flowed freely from his nose.

Their teacher called out for them to stop and stepped forward. He told the boy on the ground to stand and pick up his weapon again.

“If all you do is defend, you will lose. Battles can last for years, a warrior cannot. The only way one can truly win is to find a way through and stay one step ahead. Be smarter. Fight harder. They have weaknesses. Find them. _Use_ them. Or you die.”

“ _Sha, hefgona Boyan.”_

_Yes, master Boyan._

The young boy turned back to his three comrade-in-arms with sheer determination, waiting for the signal to tell them to begin again.

“ _Wanheda_ , the Commander is looking for you.”

Clarke turned to the guard who had spoken and nodded at her.

She left the training group unnoticed, just as she had crept upon them, but the furious smacking of wood on wood, the shouting, and the aggressive cries followed her most of the way back.

* * *

 “You sent for me?” Clarke asked, walking into Lexa's room.

They were alone. New sentries stood guard at the doors to Lexa's suite – the sentries on that were on duty the night that Bellamy had eluded them were relieved of their positions – and the attendants rushed out when they saw Clarke arrive.

“You did not stay for the feast.”

“I wasn't hungry.”

Lexa paused, formulating her words carefully. “Have you spoken with your mother?”

Clarke didn't have any patience left for her mother and scoffed. “I'm not going to talk about this.”

Lexa exhaled wearily. “Clarke...I need to know where she stands on this. If she tries to subvert--”

“She won't.”

“You know that for certain?”

“I know I will make certain that she won't.”

Lexa allowed that to be the end of it for now.

She motioned to the small table over in her sitting area and Clarke saw the plate of food on it, accompanied by some wine. “I know you said you are not hungry, but I brought it from the celebration in case you change your mind...”

Clarke ignored the gesture.

“What are we going to do about Princess Mara? You still haven't heard back. What if the assassins you sent are dead? What if they can't find her? Waiting isn't going to help any of us. We have to do something.”

Lexa clasped her hands behind her back, taking Clarke head on. “I heard word just after the summit. It is done.”

“Done?”

“The Princess and her child are dead. The bloodline has been severed. I will soon announce for our armies to march into Ice Nation territory and anyone who resists will die. I will offer them the chance to choose a new leader and so a new era will begin.”

Clarke didn't believe it could be as easy as that. Not for one second.

“How can you be sure that they succeeded?” she pressed. “No one knows what she looks like. You said Nia put Mara in seclusion her whole life. Even _you_ have never seen her.”

Lexa seemed annoyed at Clarke questioning her, but she bit it back, and spoke with restraint. “She bears a sacred mark as princess of _Azgeda_ that very few people alive know of. They are bringing the bodies back as quickly as they can. I will wait until I confirm her identity myself before moving the armies forward. They should arrive in two or three days time. The messenger on horseback rides three times as fast as one with a cart trailing behind them.”

Clarke was simply at a loss.

“That's... _good_ then...?”

_What else do you say about the murder of a young girl and her newborn child?_

_Congratulations?_

_Well done?_

_Way to kill anyone standing in your way so now your army can go kill anyone that stands in their way!_

Clarke knew it had to be done. She knew how much it affected Lexa to do this. But it didn't take away the bitterness in her mouth.

“Yes,” Lexa said strongly. “It means less bloodshed, more confusion for _Azgeda_ , and it will ultimately mean end to a vicious cycle of prejudiced hatred.”

“You found a way through,” Clarke murmured, the lesson for the seconds-in-training echoed in her mind as she saw them before her eyes again.

Lexa looked at her in puzzlement, but Clarke dismissed it.

“Well, I'm glad to hear some plans work out. It's late though, I'm tired. If there's nothing else you wanted, I'm going to get some rest.”

Lexa frowned, not sure what to make of Clarke's behavior, but it wasn't like she could _object_ , even though she very much wanted to. Clarke turned around and took a few steps for the door before Lexa called out to her.

“You needn't leave, Clarke. If it is sleep you need, you may stay here.”

It bubbled up in her, rearing its ugly head, and snarled viciously.

“Are you sure you want me in here?” she asked testily. “Wouldn't I be getting in the way of other _arrangements_ you might have?”

Now Lexa was utterly lost.

_Fuck._

As soon as she said it, Clarke wanted to take it back. She could have kicked herself for sounding like such a jealous harpy. She never meant for it to slip like that, but what she saw earlier hurt. It just... _hurt_. And she was confused. About what it meant. About what Clarke was to Lexa. About what they were to each other. About what she _wanted_ them to be...

“Clearly, something is bothering you,” Lexa said coolly.

“ _Clearly_...” Clarke muttered, at a loss for how to quell the storm howling against her insides. How her head yelled for her to stop, but her heart was imploding, out of reach, uncontrollable, raging against all else.

Lexa stepped forward, reaching out for her, but Clarke stepped away, holding a hand out for Lexa to stop.

And she did.

She froze on the spot.

Pain read all over her face. “What have I done to upset you this much?”

“Nothing,” Clarke said. “I just...I don't want this tonight.”

“ _Oh_.” Lexa swallowed harshly and clasped her hands tightly behind her back again.

It was too much. Clarke couldn't _bear_ to see how much she was hurting Lexa so she finally relented, giving up her last semblance of balance and control.

“No, I didn't mean that," she said miserably, moving closer to her. "I'm _sorry_. I'm being an asshole.”

She would put it between them, she would allow Lexa to see the mess, allow her to help fix it, or make it worse. She would trust her.

“What is wrong? Is it Bellamy's sentence? I thought you were--”

“It's not about Bellamy. It's Jarunn,” she said quickly, in one breath, making sure she couldn't take it back, because the first thing she wanted to do was take it back absolutely.

But she had to say it.

Lexa's eyes widened and the light-bulb went off.

“I know you have a history with her,” Clarke said. “Anyone _alive_ would know it with the way you two were today.”

“This upsets you?”

“I'm not upset.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little upset,” she admitted, “but I'm more _confused_ than anything. I just... Lexa, what are we? If you are... _doing_ anything with other people, that's your business. We never talked about being exclusive, I'm fully aware of that, but if that is what's happening here, I want it said now. _Honesty_. And if that is the case, then okay, but I don't ever want to know about it and I don't want to know who--”

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa said pointedly, cutting her off.

Clarke stopped, swallowing the rest of her words. She tried to look Lexa in the eye and failed. It was too mortifying. She wasn’t this kind of person. She'd never felt like this. It wasn't her way to act so... _possessive_. She wished she could step outside of herself and slap her own face. But Lexa was consuming her whole and she was lost in this storm. Control had long since left her behind.

Lexa took a deep breath and stared at her intently for a few long beats. She seemed to be trying to work up the nerve.

Finally, she screwed her eyes shut and said, “Jarunn was Costia's lover.”

Of all the things Lexa could have come out with in that moment, Clarke certainly was not expecting that.

“Excuse me?” Clarke stared at her openly.

Lexa made a noise that sounded something like a strangled grunt and she turned away, sitting down on the couch. This was anything _but_ easy for her to talk about, but she was doing it for Clarke. Because Clarke needed it.

“Jarunn and Costia were close childhood friends,” she said, rubbing her temples wearily. “They were also... _more._ When Costia and I met, things changed. We shared deep feelings for each other, but her feelings for...” She sighed, not willing to say her name again just yet. “They did not go away. I did not wish to see her so conflicted, so, I proposed a compromise.”

Captivated and wide-eyed, Clarke sat down next to Lexa on the couch, never taking her gaze off her. “What kind of compromise?” she asked, almost breathlessly.

This was an insight into Lexa's mind, Lexa's secrets, Lexa's past. All the things Clarke thought she would be wholeheartedly denied of. But Lexa was proving her wrong.

“Jarunn did not live in _Polis_ then, but she traveled here often as the former ambassador's attendant. When she was here, if Costia wished it...she would share our bed.”

Clarke was blown. She could barely wrap her head around it. Lexa didn't seem the type to be able to... _share_...for lack of a better term.

“The three of you?”

Lexa lowered her eyes and tilted her head once.

“Is that what you wanted?” Clarke asked.

Lexa mashed her lips together, closing her eyes tightly, as if to ward off old memories. “It was what _she_ wanted. It made her happy. And Jarunn is a skilled lover. It was an agreeable compromise.”

“Lexa...is it what you _wanted_?”

“I wanted her happy.”

Clarke inhaled sharply as a thought occurred to her. “Would you do that with me? If I asked...”

“Yes.”

The reply was so automatic, without question, without hesitation... Just, _yes_.

But it didn't make sense. Sex was one thing. What was happening between them...that was something else.

Wasn't it?

Clarke's brow furrowed. “Even if it was someone you didn't like?”

"Do you have someone particular in mind, Clarke?" she retorted dryly.

"Not at the moment, but since you're being so obliging..."

Lexa seemed flustered by this. Expressions of anger, bewilderment, and most of all, pain, flitted across her features - each one as brief as the next - but she composed herself once more and lowered her eyes.

“Yes.”

A small fuse shorted inside Clarke and she snapped.

That last part had been a test - a not altogether _kind_ test - but it was the most telling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Lexa glowered at her, saying nothing. Her clenched jaw said it all though. She didn't exactly appreciate Clarke's reaction to her remarkable vulnerability and honesty.

“You don't just sacrifice everything you are and everything you want just because you think it's going to make someone else happy! You deserve more than that.”

Lexa licked her lips, swallowing audibly, and raised her chin with far more confidence than Clarke believed she truly felt at the moment. “And just what is it that you think I deserve, Clarke?”

“ _Everything.”_

The tension flooded from Lexa's body at the simple word. Her shoulder's weren't so tight anymore. Her back wasn’t as straight. Her hands that had been clenched into fists opened once more and palms rested on her lap.

Clarke wasn't attacking her. Clarke was _defending_ her.

“Would _everything_ include you?” she ventured softly, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

Clarke pretended not to know what she meant and shrugged innocently. “Everything means everything, right?”

“Does this mean you are still going to sleep alone tonight?”

Clarke dropped the teasing, turning her body to face Lexa completely. “It means no one is _ever_ coming into our bed, do you hear me? I'm laying it down right now, Lexa. If you even dare--”

Lexa's lips muffled the rest and Clarke melted into her.

* * *

Clarke was drifting in the twilight between consciousness, warm, sleepy, and utterly satiated. Her body felt like it had dissolved into molasses, but pleasure still tingled in echoes throughout.

Lexa was next to her with that piercing green staring right through her, into her, swirling her away... Clarke tried to tell her to sleep, but it came out in an incomprehensible mumble so she snuggled closer, moving her head onto Lexa's pillow, putting their faces a mere inch from each other. She closed her eyes again and the gentle, even puffs of Lexa's breath against her forehead began to lull her into sleep.

A whisper broke the silence, so quiet, so soft, she hardly heard it at all. It seemed to fade somewhere between them before it could reach her ears, but she knew. She _knew_.

“Are you mine, _Klark kom Skaikru_?”

Oblivion was calling to her, but Clarke couldn't give over just yet.

“ _Din yu ain, Heda?_ ” she mumbled drowsily, forcing her eyes open to meet the depths in those startlingly bright green, but she didn't have to ask. She knew.

“I have already answered that.”

Clarke felt the weight of it sink into her with such contentment. Solace filled her heart and calmed her soul. She was at peace. In this moment, in this world, in this place of darkness and whispers and love.

“Then yes. A thousand times yes.”

Such adoration, such devotion, in that gaze. She had everything she could want, everything to give, just here, just now. A gentle tilt of her head was the last Clarke saw before she closed her eyes, not to wake again until morning glowed through the windows and this secret world would vanish in its light.

But even when the lover's twilight faded and the morning rose and she kissed Lexa into waking...she still _knew_.


	30. My Worst Enemy Is Memory

The Sky People delegation stayed two days before returning to Arkadia. Clarke avoided them as much as possible and breathed a sigh of relief once it was confirmed that they left the city walls. But Abby came back without Kane twice in the past three weeks to check on Bellamy...and to check on Clarke. She'd finally accepted the terms of his banishment, but was no more happy about it than the first time she'd heard his sentence. She was still leery of Lexa and reluctant about what it meant to have the _Skaikru_ as the 13 th clan.

Clarke heard from Lincoln that her mother was being pulled in ten different directions and her leadership, while done with good intentions, came from the perspective of a doctor – of the healer that Abby was – and not like the diplomat that the Arkadians needed to navigate this new world. He also mentioned that _Skaikru's_ numbers were increasing now that they'd reunited with Farm station. They'd landed in _Azgeda_ territory, but a patrol had found some of the survivors and they were brought back to the already expanded Arkadia.

It made Clarke smile to think that more of her people, the faces she'd known her whole life, had survived their journey to the ground and that she would get to see them again one day. A few months ago, she didn't think it would ever be possible to feel that way - let alone be _pleased_ - _but she was._

“We're going to hold an election,” Abby said on her second visit to _Polis_. “Kane will be voted in as Chancellor.”

“Are you sure about this?” Clarke asked. She thought it was a good decision, but a small part of her wanted her mom to remain in control. She knew that was just the little girl in her who thought that her mother could do no wrong, who needed her mom to be strong, to make the decisions, to make her feel safe. She brushed that off as quickly as it came. “You really want to give up the position to Kane?”

“He's far better suited for it than I am. We both know that. He has a vision for our people, a mind for peace talks, treaties, and diplomacy. I need to do what's best for our people and part of that is to allow myself to do what I do best...treating the sick and injured.”

“You're right,” Clarke said. “Kane will do well. I'm proud of you. Not many people would be able to have that kind of self-awareness.”

Abby looked surprised, but she tried to cover it up as best she could. “I...thank you, Clarke.... That means a lot coming from you.”

“I'm still not coming back to Arkadia.”

“Oh, don't worry,” she chuckled ruefully, “I've given up that battle. You'll come back when you're ready. I just...I miss you, honey.”

“I miss you too,” Clarke said honestly. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Are you really going to let Bellamy go?”

“It's not up to me.”

“I mean, you're not going to try and stop it?”

“No.”

“Clarke...what you're doing here...”

“Mom, don't do this--”

“You're doing incredible work. The trade routes that have been opened to us, no attacks for months, and the Grounders are coming to us for medical aid in Mount Weather... The world is changing so quickly. The Grounders that I've met, they all speak of you and Lexa...about how it is because of you two that so much is changing for the better.”

Clarke was taken aback and closed her mouth, dumbfounded. That was not, in the least, what she'd been prepared for.

Abby reached out and brushed her fingers against Clarke's cheek, but didn't try to make any more physical contact than that. Her eyes shone brightly and Clarke could see the tears behind them.

“I'm proud of you too, sweetheart.”

A little piece of Clarke's spirit healed that day for good.

* * *

 

There was a booming knock against the door to Lexa's suite, startling them both. Clarke was lying with her head on Lexa's lap while sketching and Lexa was reading, but the noise had them both scrambling to their feet.

“Enter,” Lexa said, composed.

Clarke picked up her fallen tools and parchment, tucking them away in her folder. She saw a man painting outside his home one day when she was exploring Polis and mentioned to Lexa that she used to love drawing on the Ark. How it was her only escape. That same night, Lexa's attendants brought Clarke charcoal and parchment and other various tools along with her dinner. Clarke had been drawing every day since.

Indra and six sentries entered and Clarke moved to stand at Lexa's side, peering around them. The sentries were carrying a box that Clarke knew from first glance was made to house a human body.

Lexa tensed beside her and Clarke channeled her emotion into her fists as she clenched them tightly at her side. They'd been anticipating this moment.

One of the sentries stepped forward and Clarke realized he wasn't a sentry at all. His tribal tattoos and braided beard indicated that he was one of Lexa's better warriors – the assassin, Clarke guessed – but he had a large white scar, some symbol, on the side of his neck... Clarke had only ever seen _Azgeda_ with that kind of marking. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he was chosen for the mission.

He knelt before Lexa and Clarke on one knee, bowing his head.

“ _Heda_ , I have done as you commanded.”

“Where is Lyak?” she asked evenly.

“Dead, _Heda_. He was discovered early on.”

“So you bring me her body?”

He nodded.

“Rise.”

He got to his feet, widening his stance, but still kept his head low in deference.

“How did you discern it was her?”

“The reports of her last location were several months old, she'd been moved. I spent several days tracking her...”

The assassin’s voice faded away as Clarke approached the wooden box, dragging her fingers lightly across the top. Inside, there was the corpse of a new mother, a young girl, and perhaps her baby was in there with her. Clarke wondered how he'd killed her. Was it violent? Did she fight back? Did he slip in and cut her throat as she slept? Did she try to run and he delivered an arrow into her back? Did she manage to get her own weapon and battle him, only to be bested in the end?

Clarke didn't know who this woman was. She'd never met her. Never heard anything about her other than her title and that she was a mother. She could have been just as evil as Nia. Or worse. But what if...what if she hadn't been that way at all?

“Clarke.”

Lexa's voice brought her back and she turned around.

“We need to open it.”

Lexa was gentle when she said it and Clarke realized that she'd been standing in the way of the sentries, with her hand on the lid, blocking them.

Clarke nodded and moved away, joining Lexa on the other side so that they would see the contents of the box together.

They removed the lid and then lifted the veil that covered the corpse's face.

It wasn't as disturbing as Clarke imagined it would be. Perhaps she'd just become too desensitized to death by now. She'd seen hundreds of burned and grotesquely mangled bodies...so woman lying there with her hands folded on her chest, looking peaceful, almost asleep if not for the the blue-white pallor of her skin and the red line where her throat had been slashed, but all the blood was cleaned away. She was older than Clarke had pictured her and her features were smaller, finer, prettier, than she thought Nia's child would be. The baby was not with her, and for that, Clarke was immensely grateful.

“Show me the mark,” Lexa commanded, gesturing to the assassin.

He came forward at once and pulled up the woman's shirt, revealing another white scar, a small one, on her hip. It was far more intricate and precise than any of the _Azgeda_ scarring she had ever seen.

Lexa exhaled beside her and Clarke could swear that she felt the inner battle that was raging inside of the Commander. It was the correct symbol. It was the Princess. She had succeeded.

But did it have to be this at all?

She killed a woman that she never knew, one that never declared her intentions, just because of the possibility of her being a threat.

No one but Clarke knew the self doubt that was Lexa was drowning in as she stared at the body.

“Was the child branded?”

“ _Sha, Heda._ ”

“Very well,” she said stiffly. “Take her away. I will inspect the child later.”

Clarke felt ill.

The sentries put the lid back on and Clarke crossed the room, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the body of the Princess. She went to the window, pulling aside the curtain, needing light and life before her to counteract the darkness. The city was abuzz, the streets were jam packed full of people as they went about their day. Selling, buying, talking to friends, children running between them as they played in their own world beneath the adult's feet. This is what it was for. To protect _their_ lives, to let them live like _this_ – no war, no violence, no hunger, no pain. Just life.

“ _Hod op!_ ”

Clarke whirled around in confusion. Lexa's forceful command had the others surprised too. They were halfway out the the door with the box, but Lexa ordered them back in, looking worried and anxious.

_What changed?_

“Commander, what is it?” she asked.

“Open it again,” Lexa directed impatiently, not answering Clarke.

The sentries set the box down and removed the lid quickly.

Lexa waved them aside and leaned forward, grasping at the woman's shirt and pulled it down, revealing her collarbones. There was nothing there except smooth skin. She pulled up the sleeves on each side, each arm revealing nothing, but Lexa was still agitated, still determined to find something. She inspected her belly and her legs to no avail. Finally, she stepped back, her face looking darker and angrier than Clarke had seen in a while.

“Lift her, turn her on her side.”

“ _Heda_...?” Indra tried, bewildered.

“Do it!” Lexa barked.

Several of them reached forward at once, trying to get a good grip on the body so that they could maneuver her onto her side. It was awkward and took a few moments, but they finally got her into place. Lexa reached out and yanked up the back of her shirt and Clarke peered over her shoulder, wondering what the hell was going on.

On the woman's back, there were several healed over burn marks. Not the scarring practice that the _Azgeda_ used, but rather it looked like someone had taken a scalding iron to her, burning away large portions of her skin, leaving massive, ugly scarring in its place. Had she been tortured?

With a snarl, Lexa released the shirt, and spun around, almost knocking into the assassin who had to jump out of her way in order to avoid collision.

“How did you find her? Where? Tell me again!”

Fury was emanating off of her in waves. Clarke could only stand by and watch.

“She was hidden in a small village, _Heda_ ,” he said, not daring move. “The villagers said she arrived a few months ago with the man our scouts last reported as her personal guard. She had a newborn child. She bears the symbol of _Azgeda_ royalty. It is her! I made sure of it!”

“You killed an _impostor_ ,” Lexa growled, turning her back on him. “You were tricked.”

“But how...?”

“The burns on her back. They are fresh. Made only in the last year or so. They burned away her true _Azgeda_ identity and gave her the royal symbol.”

“How can you be sure?” Clarke asked.

“Look at her,” Lexa said. “Does that woman look like a twenty-three year old Princess, the sole heir of Queen Nia of _Azgeda_? Does she look like a warrior to you? A leader? No. She's a commoner, her hands show signs of hard labor, but her body is not built for battle. She was probably a field laborer that Nia found and used to impersonate her daughter.”

Clarke looked again and the shock hit her even harder. Lexa was right. She knew this felt too easy from the start and now...

“If she used this woman then she could have more out there. We have no way of knowing who is the impostor and who is the real Princess.”

Nia's certainty and passiveness when Lexa threatened her daughter made sense now. She knew Lexa wouldn't be able to find Mara until Mara made her presence known.

“ _Heda_ , it is not possible. They treated her like _Azgeda_ royalty, her guard was the Queen's general. How could it--”

“LEAVE US!”

The assassin was terrified for his life now that it seems he did not complete his mission and had failed his Commander. Indra snatched him by his shirtfront and yanked him forward, pushing him out the door roughly. The sentries picked up the box and exited Lexa's apartment as quickly as they could. Clarke turned to Lexa, who was pacing like a caged predator, as she heard the doors shut behind them.

“What now?”

“ _Now_?” Lexa looked at her, eyes hard and embittered. “Now, we go to war.”

* * *

Her eyes flew open and the hazy light from the candles still lit all around Lexa's room brought her out of the darkness. Unable to bear being on her back, she sat up at once, trying to feet the bed beneath her, grasping the sheets, reminding herself of where she was and what was real. She took in the room, candles, peeling wallpaper, broken window panes, Lexa's desk, her art folder, the foot of the bed, and Lexa... Lexa who was a solid presence beside her, lying on her stomach, turned towards Clarke. She stirred when Clarke woke up, and even though she was still partially asleep, she moved closer to her throwing her arm haphazardly over Clarke's waist.

“ _Chit bilaik, ai hodnes?_ ” Lexa mumbled, eyes half open as she peered up at Clarke.

_What is it, my love?_

“Nothing. Can't sleep.”

But she didn't have full control back yet and she was still breathing hard from the adrenaline that flooded her body during dreams.

Lexa didn't need any more than that to know. She sat up at once and her long, curly hair spilled over her shoulders. She curled her arms around Clarke, gathering her closer, almost pulling her into her lap, and pressed her forehead to the side of Clarke's head, her nose buried in Clarke's hair.

“Again?” she murmured softly.

Clarke had nightmares some nights. Not every night like she used to in the months before she started sleeping in Lexa's bed. But they still came... And tonight was a particularly bad one. She didn't remember what she dreamed of, but there was a sick feeling in her stomach and she couldn't stop trembling.

“I'm here. You're safe.”

The first time she'd woken from a nightmare, Lexa stayed quiet and calm at her side, offering only a hand on her arm as reassurance. She didn't know what Clarke needed or wanted as she came back to the world, forcing her demons into shadows again. Clarke didn't even know what she needed. But Lexa's touch was an anchor and, without thinking, she straddled Lexa's waist and hugged her with every ounce of strength in her body. She knew Lexa wouldn't break. Lexa could take everything Clarke had and more. She didn't say a word, just held Lexa to her fiercely, burying her face in her throat, and waited for her heart to slow, the dream to fade, the shaking to stop, the fear to dissipate from her belly.

And that was how Lexa handled every nightmare afterward, bringing Clarke into her arms, as much physical contact as possible to remind her body where it was when her mind was still elsewhere. She was tender, gentle, reassuring, and never asked what it is Clarke dreamed of. Why would she? She knew the answer. Instead, she rubbed her hands up and down Clarke's back slowly, rhythmically, lulling her back into sleep.

"You believe in reincarnation, right?" Clarke asked shakily.

Lexa nodded against her shoulder.

"Does that mean you believe in karma too?" Clarke whispered. "Do you think it's possible that I did something so terrible in a past life that I was forced to repeat something even worse in this life? Is this my punishment? Will I be this person in every life?"

"If this is who you are in every life, Clarke, then the world is infinitely better for it."

"I've hurt so many..."

"You have saved so many more. And you continue to do so."

"I don't want to be this person."

"Then don't be."

Clarke sighed, squeezing her more tightly. "Don't let go, okay?"

And she didn't

After each nightmare, Clarke would eventually come down enough from the fear spiked adrenaline and allow Lexa to lay them both down again, but she refused to break the contact. She would fall asleep wholly wrapped up in Lexa's embrace, her face tucked in the crook of Lexa's neck, her arms around her middle, her stomach flush against hers, their legs hooked around each other in a firm hold that ensured that neither one would be able to escape. Sleep would come slowly, but Clarke always fell first because Lexa would keep watch over her each time to make sure Clarke was slumbering peacefully before succumbing again herself.

* * *

The next morning, Clarke woke still firmly ensconced in Lexa's arms and usually that was more than enough to dispel the last remnants of her nightmares. But this time was different. Lexa was worried and saddened when Clarke kissed her goodbye and said that she was going to spend the day alone rather than attend the war council meeting. It wasn't entirely necessary for her to be there that day to represent her people because Kane, Sinclair, and some others from the _Skaikru_ had journeyed from _Polis_ to participate as they tried to figure out the best plan of attack.

They were working out the remaining formation of the army of the 13 clans and going through the details of the invasion of the Ice Nation. One of Lexa's generals brought up the Mount Weather missiles, but Lexa quickly shut him down.

“It is not an option unless we have a target,” she said edgily. “ _Azgeda_ is too vast. We invade with one goal: finding the new Queen.”

“And if we find a target?”

“That will only be necessary if you _fail_.” Lexa raised her eyes to meet his in a deadly challenge. “Do you believe yourself incapable of this mission? Should I appoint a new General to lead the charge?”

He backed down at once, swallowing his words. “No, Commander,” he said gruffly. “I will not fail.”

“Then let us move on.”

They finished about an hour later and Kane requested permission to stay behind to speak to Lexa. Of course, Lexa granted it. He brought up the missiles as well, seeming anxious, but Lexa didn't need to hear anymore. She held up a hand for him to be silent and sat down on her throne.

“I have already spoken to Clarke about this. The weapons inside the Mountain are not relevant to our goal,” she said shortly. “I have no intention of wresting control from the Sky People for missiles that my people have only endured unthinkable death and destruction from.”

“I only wanted to say, if it does become necessary, _Skaikru_ is willing to help the Commander do what is necessary to end the violence and secure peace for us all. We don't have the launch codes yet, but we have people working on it so that if it is, in fact, necessary one day...we will be ready to help you.”

Lexa frowned, not expecting that, but she nodded in any case. “You have been heard.”

Kane left the throne room and Lexa was left thoroughly unsettled.

She didn't know if it was because the missiles were becoming more and more a likely option, the fact that Kane was so willing to aid her in using them, or that the _Skaikru_ would soon wield the deadly power of the Mountain...


	31. Escape (Part 1)

Clarke woke Lexa again that night. She was frantic and thrashing about in her sleep until Lexa grabbed hold of her and her eyes flew open, revealing the crystal clear blue.

“You were dreaming,” she shushed her gently. “You're safe.”

Clarke was reeling, looking around the room wildly, panting like she'd been running for her life. Perspiration soaked the back of her shirt. When she calmed down enough to see Lexa, to take in how Lexa was holding her, she didn't do the same as she had all the other nights. Instead of embracing her, seeking that physical comfort, she turned away.

“I'm fine,” Clarke said, extracting herself from Lexa's embrace.

Lexa released her at once, swallowing back the smallest sting. Clarke had never rejected her comfort before after a nightmare. Why was this one different?

Clarke got out the the bed and and took a few quick steps over to where there was a jug of water on the table. She kept her back to Lexa the whole time.

“Clarke...”

“It's fine. Go back to sleep.”

Lexa clenched her jaw, determined not to push her. She didn't want to say too much and send Clarke running, but she was also afraid to say too little.

“It will get better.”

_It shouldn't._

Clarke realized tonight that she'd been greedy. Selfish. Indulgent. She'd accepted Lexa's comfort. She had _taken_ Lexa's comfort and allowed herself to feel peace. But she didn't deserve that.

When she woke to Lexa's soothing voice and warm embrace, everything in her recoiled from it. What right did she have to such affection? Devotion? What she'd done, the people she'd killed, the blackness that stained her very core... She didn't deserve comfort. She didn't deserve joy. She didn't deserve to know what it was like to sleep without torment.

She had seen and done too many things to come back from that.

Her demons never disappeared, she'd only managed to push them down. Lexa helped. Lexa made it seem possible. But it wasn't. It couldn't be.

“Will you come back to bed soon?”

Clarke nodded, half turning her head so Lexa could see her, but so that Clarke wouldn't have to see Lexa. She knew what she would be waiting for her. Those sleep heavy eyes filled with longing, pouty full lips, long tousled dark hair in a mix of braids and curls, the slender, delicate bare shoulders revealed by her nightgown, her long, graceful fingers spread out on the sheets as she waited for Clarke.

It'd be too much. Lexa's pull was too strong. Clarke would be inexplicably drawn back into the enigmatic field surrounding her, the same one that always... _always_ brought her back to Lexa. She wouldn't be able to resist climbing on top of her and burrowing herself into Lexa's embrace, wrapped around her, warm and safe To have the steady beat of Lexa's heart against her ear lulling her into a blissful sleep.

No, she couldn't look at her.

“Soon.”

Lexa didn't say anything more. The cool night air met Clarke's sweat slick skin and she was shivering. She picked up one of Lexa's fuzzy sweaters strewn over a chair and pulled it over her head.

_The whine of the drill._

_The smell of burning flesh._

_The gun in her hand after he fell._

_Hollow mountains filled with blood._

_Silence._

Clarke left the room, left the apartment altogether, and wandered. Before long, she found herself in Lexa's throne room. There was only one sentry on duty there and he immediately stepped aside without a word to let Clarke though. If he was surprised to see her in the middle of the night, he didn't show it.

Clarke had never seen the room so dark or so empty. Usually there was light everywhere, whether it was the sun or lit candles in every direction. But the throne room was pitch dark, all the candles had been extinguished for the night, yet there was one bright spot.

Lexa's throne loomed before her, ominous and foreboding.

A solitary beam of moonlight shone through the opening from the balcony, streaming through the tattered curtains. It lit the throne from behind in a ghostly white, making the intricate carving seem like bleached bones rising above it rather than wood.

Clarke walked past the chair and nearly reached out to touch the curved edge, but she caught herself just in time. Instead, she bypassed the throne and stepped out onto the balcony.

 _Polis_ was dark. The city was asleep. The moonlight was bright enough for her to be able to make out the shadowy outlines of the buildings and homes that stretched out before her, disappearing into the horizon where high peaked, shadowed mountains rose into the sky.

The city walls had large torches lit at every entrance, letting those on the inside and the outside know that _Polis_ was protected. That there were people watching over them, even if they couldn't see them. A flame crackled far above her head, the beacon at the top of the tower that was never extinguished. It was so large and so high that it could be seen for hundred of miles.

A beacon...

_Of hope._

It was a warm night, but Clarke still hugged herself, feeling a chill. Lexa's sweater was soft against her skin and it smelled like her. A gentle breeze lifted her hair across her face and she tucked it back behind her ear. The nightmare was slipping away slowly, but what it did to her remained.

Lexa would tell her that it was war, that harsh decisions and painful sacrifices must be made on both sides. It was accepted as a harsh truth, not something to be tormented by or even something to be forgiven for. Clarke knew she was right. That was what war meant, what war has always been, but that didn't change the fact that she _murdered_ hundreds of people. Some were guilty, most were not.

She saved her people. Yes. She saved perhaps thousands more if Mount Weather had continued to cut down the Grounders with their acid fog, missiles, and, eventually, their guns. If they had succeeded in the marrow treatment, killing all the Sky People, and bringing the Mountain people back to the surface...they would never, for one moment, be able to co-exist peacefully with the Grounders. It never would have stopped. The cycle of death, destruction, and loss would have continued. Even if all her people had died, Mount Weather never would have stopped.

Clarke stopped them.

But the lives she saved did not, and could not, balance the scales. She could save a million lives, but it would still never be able to replace the ones lost. Death was not, and _could_ not, be a calculated sacrifice. War may follow the strategics of chess, but in the game, pawns were easily sacrificed for the greater good. That was a game, inanimate pieces moving across a board.

People, human beings, each one with their imperfect, but wholly unique souls...they can never be replaced. Thousands of lives versus one life and still that one life means something. The greater good has to be achieved, but it doesn't erase the loss.

Clarke deserved to feel the burden. Clarke deserved to feel the pain. She owed that to the people inside Mount Weather. She owed it to them to carry the weight of their lost lives with her to her grave. At least that way, they wouldn't be forgotten. Not by her.

But it didn't mean she had to suffer her whole life either. She'd made a choice. She would make that choice again. The greater good ultimately weighed out in the end. But she didn't get to stop now though. She made a choice to save her people, to end a war, to deliver peace...and she could never stop until there was true peace. That was what lay waiting at the end of all this. Peace. Life. Joy. If she stopped now, it would all be for nothing. Those who lay rotting under the earth -- because of her -- will have died for far less than they deserved. Clarke owed it to them, if not to herself, to see that their sacrifice went towards the creation of a greater world. A better one than the one they left behind. She could do that. She could do that with Lexa.

But she couldn't break. She couldn't buckle. If she let those painful memories and haunting nightmares destroy her...it would mean she was weak. Too weak to fight for them, too weak to fight for her people, too weak to fight for herself. Her choice that day did not define her, but it helped shape who she was now, who she would forever be.

She would never be the little girl that held her father as he was being torn out of her arms and swearing that she would warn their people. She would never be the daughter who looked at her mother with unfailing faith. She would never again be the girl who drew dreams on the floor of her prison.

What would her father think of her now? Would he even be able to look at her, knowing what she'd done? Or would he say that she was right? Her father always said their people came first. She doubted this is what he had in mind. Her mother looked at her differently now. Clarke wasn't just her daughter anymore - she was a killer, a leader, a stranger, a woman.

Clarke would never be the same person she was when she first stepped onto the ground, but that didn't mean she was wrong. The world changed and she changed with it, she grew, she adapted, she became stronger, and she saved people.

The demons would never vanish, but she could fight them, and maybe, as Lexa told her one night when she clung to her greedily, their power would fade.

Clarke took a deep breath, leaving the sight of a slumbering _Polis_ behind, and went back into the throne room. She passed the chair again and lightly trotted down the few steps, but halfway to the door, she stopped out of curiosity and looked back.

Lexa's throne wasn't sinister or skeletal anymore, it was solemn and ethereal – bathed in moonlight. It was not warm, it was not wood, and it was not even a chair. It was an unearthly throne and the carvings that stretched out above it were made of pure _ivory_.

When Clarke finally slipped back under the covers, Lexa was on her back with her eyes closed. Clarke desperately wanted to cross the divide and curl herself into Lexa's warmth, but she'd already woken her once that night, she didn't want to disturb her again. So she was careful to limit her movement and kept her distance. She fell asleep on her side, facing Lexa, and her hand ended up in the space between them – reaching out for her even then.

But Lexa had never gone back to sleep. She stayed awake and waited for Clarke to return, closing her eyes when she heard Clarke enter the suite again. She feigned sleep because she didn't know what Clarke would have wanted. When Clarke joined her in bed again, but purposefully left space between them...Lexa knew she'd been right to stay asleep. Clarke didn't want her comfort tonight.

That's when she made her decision.

* * *

That morning, Clarke rose first and was eating breakfast when Lexa finally roused and lumbered out of bed to join her. They were both exhausted, but neither one were willing to admit it. Daylight reigned now and anything that happened under the cover of darkness...it was an unspoken agreement that they would not speak of it.

“Took you long enough.” Clarke smiled at the sleepy Lexa who was rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she yawned and walked towards her. “I thought you had an early training session today with the young bloods?”

“I will meet with them tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “I was sure that you said it was going to be today... Wait, what are you doing?”

Lexa had bypassed the food and went straight to change into her clothes for the day.

“Put that down and get dressed,” she said.

“Whahf?” Clarke asked, her mouth full and she swallowed. “Why?”

“We're leaving?”

Clarke raised her eyebrows. “We're doing what now?”

“Leaving,” she repeated calmly.

“Leaving to go _where_?”

Lexa didn't reply. Instead, she just exited the room without another word while Clarke stared after her in complete and utter befuddlement.

When Lexa didn't immediately return, Clarke decided she better finish her food quickly and get dressed. She knew that tone fairly well by now. A part of her was secretly thrilled by this side of Lexa - she never failed to surprise.

After Clarke finished her breakfast in record time and dressed, Lexa walked back in with two large packs.

“Good,” she nodded, assessing Clarke's choice of outfit for the day. “Come, we leave now.”

“Okay...I'll bite...” Clarke took one pack that Lexa handed her and slung it over her shoulder. “But I still need to know where we're going.”

Lexa walked up to her, stepping inside Clarke's personal space, their bodies bare inches from touching each other. Clarke's breath caught in her throat when Lexa's intense green stared into her. Her heart hammered wildly against her chest despite herself.

“We cannot _run_ ,” Lexa purred with a mischievous glint in her eyes and grinned slyly in a way that Clarke was _definitely_ not used to and _definitely_ turned on by, “but perhaps a small escape for one day will not bring the walls of the city down around us.”

A curious and eager smile slowly spread across Clarke's face, lighting her from the outside in.

* * *

They rode for about an hour on horseback. Clarke was in front while Lexa sat pressed against her intimately from behind, maneuvering the reins.

“We could have taken _two_ horses,” Clarke teased.

“That would have aroused suspicion.”

“ _Aroused_ suspicion...” she snorted, “that's not how I would put it.”

“I do not see why it is necessary for you to constantly question my decisions,” Lexa replied exasperatedly.

“I snuck past sentries and through secret hallways and out an old above ground tunnel with you just because you said we were "leaving". I deserve to question you at this point.”

Lexa chuckled, but she didn't say anything else.

It was a warm day and a leisurely ride. Clarke felt at ease here, in the woods, a horse between her legs, rocking back and forth with Lexa flush against her back. It was peaceful and quiet. She could have fallen asleep at once if she didn't think it would end with her face planting on the ground.

“I know what you're doing,” she hummed, laying her head back on Lexa's shoulder.

“Riding a horse?” Lexa replied dryly. “Astute observation, Clarke.”

She rolled her eyes at that.

“You're trying to distract me.”

“You need the distraction,” she said honestly.

Clarke glanced at her over her shoulder. “You do too.”

“So it works in both our favor.”

Clarke reached behind her to squeeze Lexa's knee and let her hand rest there for a while.

“Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?”

“You will see. I would ask that you have patience, but if I have learned anything about you by now Clarke...”

“Patience is a stupid virtue,” she grumbled.

Lexa said nothing, but Clarke could _feel_ the grin behind her.

* * *

It was a lake.

They came through a thick part of the woods and suddenly there was a massive body of the bluest water before her. The surface shimmered like speckled diamonds in the bright sunlight. Mountains with snow covered peaks rose behind the smooth surface that seemingly stretched for miles. It was surrounded by the forest and some mossy banks, but there were many large pale yellow areas on the edges breaking up the green of the woods. Clarke realized after closer inspection that it was _sand_. Lexa directed their horse down a path that led to large, soft sandy beach.

Even as she got down from the horse, she couldn't stop staring in wonder, looking around in every direction with wide eyed excitement. It was so beautiful and serene...it reminded her of what she felt the first time she'd seen the deer, despite the startling mutation, when they arrived. That had been the first time she'd truly stopped, even just for a few seconds, to take in the beauty of where she was, and absorb how real it had all become. Earth. It wasn't in a book or on the monitors – it was right in front of her.

Now she was standing in the middle of it.

Lexa led their horse a good distance away where there was abundant grass and low bushes for him to graze on. She tied him to a wooden post and Clarke realized that this wasn't as uninhabited as it seemed. Not if there was a hitching post. Also, the trail they had followed in was well marked.

But they hadn't seen a soul.

Lexa nodded towards the beach as she grabbed their packs and handed Clarke a blanket to carry. Clarke followed after her dumbly, still awestruck by their surroundings. Lexa certainly knew how to pick a getaway retreat.

Once they were close enough to the water, Lexa dropped the bags, and threw a devious grin at Clarke as she started to remove her clothes.

Clarke balked.

“Won't someone see us?” she asked awkwardly.

Lexa continued to undress as she replied, “This is reserved for the armies of the twel— _thirteen_ clans. It is used as a training ground and a reward for the warriors and young bloods. No civilians are allowed to use this lake, it is strictly forbidden. We have many other water sources nearby that are for common use, but not this. Anyone found here without explicit permission faces a severe punishment. It is for the safety of our army that we keep its training grounds well protected and hidden.”

“But--”

Lexa kicked off her pants, leaving her unabashedly nude in the warm early afternoon light. “They are preparing for a long journey and a hard war, Clarke, no one will be here today.”

With that, Lexa grinned and took off at a run, splashing into the water, and leaping through it until it was deep enough for her to dive under.

When she surfaced and slicked back her wet hair, she called out for Clarke. “Come on, Sky Girl!”

Clarke hated the embarrassment that burned her cheeks and she ducked her head.

“I don't know how to swim.”

“What?” Lexa asked, not hearing her.

“I don't know how to swim!” Clarke said again, louder, and quite miserably.

“Then I will teach you,” Lexa replied gently. “But you have to come into the water first.”

Though still thoroughly anxious, especially with all her previous (negative) experiences with water, Clarke hurriedly stripped down and walked into the lake. She took a few steps in, sinking with each step. The sand was silky and almost mud-like under her feet, and then she stopped.

“Are there any man eating creatures in there?”

Lexa stared at her oddly.

“Never mind,” Clarke said, shaking her head. “Just swear that I'm not going to get attacked by water monsters or drown.”

“I do swear it, Clarke,” she said with more sincerity than the situation warranted. "It's safe."

But Clarke was grateful for Lexa's tendency towards literalness in that moment because she actually did want to be reassured right now as she waded in.

When she got far in enough to cover her breasts, Lexa swam towards her.

“Alright, Commander, here I am," she said with more confidence than she felt. "How do you propose to teach me?”

Lexa closed the gap between them, taking Clarke into her arms, and kissed her deeply.

“First,” she breathed against Clarke's lips, “you must learn to float.”

Clarke pulled her back for another kiss and it was partially because the touch of Lexa's lips eased her anxiety about being so deep in the water with no idea what to expect.

“ _Floating_ is not something my people have a great history with..." she said sardonically, "it means a gruesome death and an eternity of your corpse frozen in space.”

Lexa was a little taken aback by that, particularly since Clarke had said it with such a matter-of-fact tone, but she didn't let it deter her.

“I do not know of floating in the sky, but in the water, it is something very different. But to do so, you must be able to trust me and to trust yourself. Will you be able to do that?”

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa's slippery shoulders and pressed her forehead against hers, gazing into her.

“Just show me already, Lexa.”


	32. Escape (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will only say this once and it will never be referred to again. What they did was wrong. I will never watch the 100 again. Obviously, the giddy happiness with which I wrote this fic is gone. But this is my story and I will finish it. I wrote the ending when I wrote the beginning back before s3 even premiered. So I'm not going to leave this unfinished and the ending will still be exactly the way I planned it. Recent events have no effect or place here. It never happened as far as I'm concerned.
> 
> I actually had this chapter written before 3x07 aired, but I didn't want to post it on the same day as a new episode. Later, I debated whether or not I could bring myself to post it at all after everything. I hope you enjoy it. I only wish I had posted it before instead of waiting.
> 
> Lexa deserved better. We all did.

Lexa had gone back to shore a little while ago, leaving Clarke to her own devices. Clarke was floating on her back in shallow water, watching the pale, blue sky and the clouds that slowly moved by. She marveled at the way the water slipped in and out across her skin, each inhale brought her chest to the surface, her nipples hardening in the air even though it was an increasingly warm day. Her belly would rise, letting the water lap at her sides before dipping under again, covering her like the thinnest blanket she'd ever felt. It didn't take long for her to learn. Lexa was a good teacher and it ended up being far harder to trust the water than Lexa.

Despite her head repeatedly screaming at her that she was going to sink and drown, she forced herself to listen to Lexa's voice and follow her instructions. Lexa held Clarke in a strong, reassuring embrace, slowly coaxing her onto her back. Clarke stopped and started a few times, flailing and splashing when panic overwhelmed her, but Lexa was steadfast. She kept her hands under Clarke's back to support her, she told her how to breathe, how to relax, how to hold her body.

She never let go until finally...after some convincing...Clarke gave her permission to.

And Clarke learned to float.

It was nothing like floating in zero gravity.

She loved it.

Deciding she wanted to take a break for a while, she walked out of the water, approaching Lexa's nude body where she laid out on the blanket over the sand. Clarke had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty before her, one she didn't get to see very often, and never so free as this. Their experiences together were usually under the cover of darkness and still somewhat too rushed for Clarke's liking. They would find each other whenever they could, late nights after long days, brief mornings captured before they were whisked away for their duties. Clarke usually _felt_ more than she got to _see_.  
  
Until now.  
  
Now she had Lexa in broad daylight, her deep caramel skin soaking up the rays like it was starved. From darkness, blankets, and rough formal clothes to being stripped away clean - free. Clarke wanted to get used to this, but she knew that wasn't what her life was meant to be. So she resolved take advantage of these rare few hours that Lexa arranged for them and burn the images into her mind for the days when she would need to remember them most.  
  
Mischievously, Clarke leaned over and wrung out her wet hair on Lexa who was sleeping peacefully in the sun.  
  
To Clarke's disappointment, she only got some displeased muttering in response and shifting from Lexa who had droplets of cold water on her skin – nothing more. The Commander wasn't so easily affected. Outwardly, anyway.  
  
Lexa had been napping when Clarke so rudely interrupted and she wasn't willing to give up her quietude yet. Or at least that was what she was making Clarke believe. Because if that was the case, Clarke would certainly have to work harder to get her attention, wouldn't she?  
  
Time and playfulness were two things sorely denied them since they'd come together. Lexa had started planning this the moment Clarke pushed her away last night after her most recent nightmare. She knew Clarke needed time, but this little retreat was proving to be something of a head-trip for them both. Lexa didn't anticipate the effect it would have on herself. She'd only been thinking about Clarke, but since they arrived, they'd been almost giddy.

It was too dreamlike to be anything resembling their reality.

That was dangerous.

But it was also necessary.

Lexa remained still, pretending to be asleep, but Clarke saw right through her. She knelt down on the sand and leaned over, precariously close to Lexa's lips.  
  
" _Commander_...” she drawled, “is it wise to be asleep while so exposed?"  
  
Lexa finally opened her eyes and found Clarke mere inches away, those bright blue eyes focused on her intently.  
  
"Hm." She licked her lips unthinkingly, gaze darting down to Clarke's mouth. "You worry too much about me, Clarke. It shows lack of faith."  
  
"Are you sure you want to question my faith in you?" Clarke scoffed. "Because we were about to have such a _nice_ moment..."  
  
"Were we?" Lexa's eyebrows rose and she leaned in before she even realized it.  
  
Clarke smiled before ducking down and met Lexa's lips with a teasing kiss.  
  
A soft noise of protest escaped Lexa when Clarke pulled away, which just made her smile even wider.  
  
If only those battle hardened warriors in _Polis_ knew what a sweet little puppy they had in their merciless and terrifying _Heda_.

“Well, you can't keep me away too long,” Clarke teased. “Kane's still in _Polis_. How long do you think you have before my people think you've tied me up and thrown me into a Grounder prison hole?”  
  
Lexa flipped her onto her back swiftly, her weight pinning her down, before Clarke could even think to move. Then her lips met hers, hard and ravenous. A strong thigh parted her legs and pressed against her center, sending waves of heat entwined with pleasure flowing through Clarke's body. She tried to wrap her arms around the naked girl on top of her, but found her wrists held firmly on the sand above her head.  
  
"Perhaps I should tie you up, Clarke," she said hotly against her ear as her body rocked against her slowly, teasingly. "I wouldn't want to disappoint your people."  
  
The mere idea of being at Lexa's mercy and the images it conjured up, had Clarke's heart racing into overdrive. Blood thundered in her ears and between her thighs. Lexa's mouth claimed hers again roughly and it was all Clarke could do not to beg.  
  
She would have to rethink the puppy thing.

* * *

They made a quick dash back into the lake some time after, splashing each other playfully, and Lexa made sure they stayed within standing ground for Clarke's sake. She tried showing her some basic swimming techniques, guiding her around with steady hands, but Clarke wasn't having it.

“I suck at this,” Clarke bemoaned, coughing since she'd just had water go up her nose. “Why do I suck at this?”

“You are thinking too much. Floating was about trusting the water. To swim, you must trust your body.”

“Then there's a _serious_ disconnect happening. I've swallowed more water in the last five minutes than I have in the last five _days_.”

Lexa tilted her head affectionately, trying not to laugh. “You are doing well, Clarke,” she reassured her.

“I am like a drowning cat.”

“Cats swim far better than you.”

Clarke glowered at her.

Lexa's typically serious countenance lit up with a wonderful and far too rare smile. It was infectious apparently because eventually Clarke grinned as well.

“Shut up,” she muttered halfheartedly.

Lexa caught Clarke's ankle mid kick and pulled her to her, kissing her soundly. Clarke smiled against her lips and teasingly licked away some of the water droplets on her skin. Lexa hummed her soft contentment, happy to just hold her like this for a while, enveloped by the water, slick and exquisitely wonderful flesh against flesh.

Clarke couldn't help it. For as much as her body and her heart was here with Lexa, her mind kept pulling her back. Back to what they had left behind. The dangers that awaited them. All the factors that would make here and now not a future for them, but only here and now.

Clarke wanted more than that.

God.

She wanted endless days like these.

She wanted Lexa.

But there was still so much in their way.  
  
" _Skaikru_. _Azgeda_. The 13 clans...” she said forlornly. “We _will_ figure this out, won't we? It doesn't always have to be so _hostile_ with the constant threat of war at any moment's notice? We could accept each other eventually...one day?"  
  
"We could,” Lexa nodded gravely, not at all fazed by Clarke's turn, “I will do my part with the clan leaders. You will have to do the same with your people." She lowered her voice to a grumble, "If you could just get your mother to stop resisting the Coalition at _every_ turn...”  
  
Clarke groaned in disbelief and jumped on her, forcing Lexa off balance, which gave her the deliciously rare opportunity to dunk the Commander's head under the water. Lexa came back up calmly and wiped the water away from her eyes. There was the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips though.  
  
“ _Don't_ talk about my mother when we're naked.”  
  
"That is a fair request." She gave a slight nod, somewhat apologetic. "But I don't think we'll have much chance to speak about her at all if that's the condition."  
  
Lexa's slow, devious grin was something Clarke was still getting used to -- it took her back every time -- and every time she adored it.

Laughing, Clarke darted back towards the shore.  
  
"Catch me if you dare, _Heda kom Jus_!"  
  
Lexa huffed. "Clarke, that is a sacred title, not something to be bandied about like..."  
  
Clarke was out of the water, her nude body glistening in the bright sunlight. Lexa stared in rapture at every smooth, soft, and supple curve that was brazenly displayed before her. Her eyes feasting on the rare alabaster skin, remembering how it had felt against her mouth and against her body mere moments ago - though now that moment felt like a year. Just as Clarke had been deprived of seeing Lexa, Lexa had been deprived of seeing Clarke. She hadn't been able to fully appreciate the sight of her lover's body either.  
  
Clarke smirked knowingly and ran off the beach, disappearing into the woods. Lexa dashed out of the water as quickly as she could. Of course she would catch her.

* * *

They chased each other for a while, running across sandy beaches and darting through bushes and trees, laughing and hiding and jumping out at each other. It was silly and childish and absolutely absurd, but how they loved every second of it. They both knew how unlikely it would be that they would ever get the chance to do it again. Later, after they'd tired themselves out, they laid side by side on their stomachs in a comfortable silence. They were both still unabashedly naked and wonderfully drowsy as they let the hot afternoon sun dry them as they laid on the blanket over the sand.

“I have not been here since I was under Anya's tutelage,” Lexa admitted quietly, never breaking from Clarke's gaze.

They had their heads pillowed on their arms as they faced each other.

“Are you not allowed to come here as Commander?”

“I can do what I want, Clarke,” she said with a hint of indignation. “ _Ai laik Heda_.”

Clarke rolled her eyes with a giggle.

“Okay then, almighty _Heda –_ the question remains – why have you not been here in so long? And don't say it's because you were too busy.”

“That is a large part of it, yes, but...this is a retreat. We train hard here and we are rewarded as well. I did not feel it was my place to have a reward. I have not achieved my goal.”

Clarke's eyes softened. “You're too hard on yourself.”

“So are you.”

She couldn't argue with that.

“We're here now though. What changed?”

“ _You_.”

Clarke watched her silently.

“You told me... _before_...that life should be about more than just surviving. You were right. I do not intend to forget it.”

Clarke swallowed thickly at the reminder. “So this is you giving yourself a break?”

“This is _us_ allowing ourselves a respite, however short lived.”

Clarke smiled and reached out, slipped her hand under Lexa's arm, settling in the crook of her elbow.

“I'm glad you brought me here,” she said softly.

Lexa's lowered her eyes briefly in acknowledgment, but she didn't say anything else.

A few long moments passed and they enjoyed the silence together, but this was their rare time to get to know each other more than ever before. This was their chance at freedom. Outside of _Polis_ , words seemed to come more easily. There were no sentries to overhear them, no angry delegates, no flirty ambassadors, no attendants ready to interrupt them at any given moment with some new crisis at hand.

So Clarke took advantage of it. She wanted to ask questions. Endless questions. She wanted answers about everything she'd wondered since the day she walked into that tent and saw her sitting on her throne with a dagger in her hand. The hardest part was where to start...

She lifted herself up a little bit, taking her hand back, and propped her head up on her arm, still stretched out against Lexa's side.

“Who was Roan?” she finally decided, watching Lexa for any sign of discomfort or warning that Clarke had crossed a line. But Lexa's eyes were closed and she didn't seem to have much of, if any, reaction. “You know...the warrior Nia put forward in your trial?”

Lexa never wanted to talk about what she went through in the arena and Clarke certainly didn't want to think about the brush with death Lexa had afterward. But it always bugged her that she didn't understand who that man was and why he seemed to change everything the second he stepped forward. He was the reason she almost died. He was the reason Clarke spent hours stitching Lexa back together and he was the reason why she had to do a field transfusion, nearly killing herself in the process.

Yes. She could start with him. Work her way forward then work her way back. Maybe she wasn't ready to share everything about her own past yet, her _father_ , but Lexa had proven that she was more than capable of making up for Clarke's inherent lack of patience with her own seemingly limitless supply.

Someday she would tell her everything there was to know. Today, she just wanted to know more about Lexa.

“He was one of my closest generals,” Lexa replied finally, her voice was thick, but her body remained relaxed. “He was there with me when I first took command.”

“What happened?”

“We needed information on Nia,” Lexa sighed and flipped over onto her back. She still didn't seem to want to look at her. “She was deeply regressed into _Azgeda_ territory, closed her ranks. I publicly banished Roan, to show every clan I officially broke ties with him, and Roan was to play the part of the angry and rejected warrior...turning to his _Heda's_ enemy for revenge.”

“He was supposed to spy for you,” Clarke said, piecing it together.

Lexa finally opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to meet Clarke. “He betrayed me.”

“He did more than that.”

Lexa nodded, her gaze turned glassy and unseeing. “He is the one who captured Costia and brought her to Nia,” she said throatily. “Costia trusted him because _I_ trusted him.”

Clarke inhaled sharply. Lexa's pain was almost palpable. She almost wished she'd never brought it up, but she had to. She wanted to know all she could about Lexa. Even if it meant bringing a little heaviness to such a beautiful place and a peaceful moment like this. Because, frankly, she never knew when her next chance would be or if there would ever be another chance.

“You killed him.”

“I did.”

“But it didn't make you feel better.”

“I had his spear in my side, Clarke. Everything was quite painful at the time.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“I trusted him. He betrayed me. He took someone I loved _because_ I loved her. Now he is dead. You can't change the past. It just...forms a scar that hurts a little less every day. Some days it hurts more.”

Clarke reached out and ran her fingertips over the line of Lexa's jaw then moved up to run her fingers over those lips she knew so well. Lexa closed her eyes again, turning her head closer to Clarke, taking comfort in her touch. Clarke cupped her cheek and leaned down to press a sweet kiss to her mouth. They stayed there like that for a long moment, breathing each other in, letting the heaviness of memory pass them by until they were alone again and only with each other.

Clarke shifted and laid her head on Lexa's shoulder, stretching her arm across Lexa's stomach, rubbing small circles with her thumb at the bare skin of Lexa's hip. Clarke needed that contact and, from the look on her face, Lexa did too.

They didn't speak again for a while.

* * *

Clarke woke from her nap, licking her lips, and looked for the canteen of water they'd brought with them. She'd really needed the extra sleep with her last few fitful nights of rest. Lexa was suspiciously missing from her side. She was nowhere to be seen on the beach or in the water, but Clarke wasn't worried. Lexa would never leave her alone. She was around nearby somewhere.

She finally found the canteen, drinking long and greedily. She noticed that her thighs were much redder than just a typical reaction from heat. She pushed her fingertips into her skin, noticing the white indents it left, and groaned internally.

_Yep. Sunburned. Way to go, Griffin._

_She'd always wanted to know what a human shaped lobster looked like._

Suddenly, Clarke heard a loud whooping sound from the left of her and turned just in time to see Lexa swinging out from a giant boulder on a rope. The boulder jutted out about twenty feet above the lake and Lexa swung as far out as the long, knotted rope would allow before letting go. She flipped once in the air before straightening her body in a perfect dive to slip into the water so smoothly, there was hardly a splash to show where she entered.

She couldn't help but imagine a much smaller Lexa, shorter, gawkier, less graceful. What did it look like when she swung out on that rope when she was a child here - in between her training sessions? Was she happier then? Or had she always been graced with painful wisdom beyond her years...always serious and grave? She hoped not. Lexa deserved to know some semblance of a childhood. Whatever little pieces of it she could scavenge throughout her violent and grief-stricken life.

Clarke applauded when Lexa resurfaced. She leisurely swam back to the beach. Clarke knew Lexa probably hadn't done that since she was maybe ten years old.

“Was it as fun as you remember?” she asked.

She'd never seen Lexa as _free_ as this...

It was both a joy and a physical ache in Clarke's heart.

Because she knew it would never stay this way.

“The drop seemed so much further when I was young,” Lexa admitted with a laugh, walking out of the water, dripping wet, and collapsed onto the sand next to her. “You should try it.”

“Try it?” she echoed disbelievingly. “I still can't swim!”

“You just learned how to float, that will be enough. I will wait at the bottom and help you.”

“That's ridiculous. I've jumped off a cliff before and it was a hell of a lot higher than that little rock. I don't see what's fun about it.”

“Clarke...” she purred, leaning in with that _look_ in her eyes, “are you _frightened?_ ”

“You're unbelievable,” she huffed.

Lexa shrugged. “I simply believed that the legendary _Wanheda_ , Slayer of the Mountain, surely wouldn't be so intimidated by a little drop off such a small rock that _children_ play on...”

Her jaw dropped. “Did you just call me chicken?”

Lexa frowned immediately. “No? Why would I--”

Clarke got right in her face. “Listen to me, _Commander,_ ” she sneered, “no one, and I mean _no one_ , calls Clarke Griffin a chicken! You got that?”

With that she jumped up, spun on her heel, and stomped off towards the boulder.

Lexa stared at her retreat with wide eyes and then, as a thought occurred to her, she started rummaging through their packs before finding the jug of wine that she brought to have with lunch and took off the cap. Peering into it, she saw that it was filled to the brim, untouched.

Bewildered, she set it down just as Clarke shouted from a distance.

“ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?”

Lexa licked her lips and got to her feet slowly.

She decided right then and there that Clarke Griffin was just a little bit mad.

* * *

Lexa went again, no tumble this time, just a straight drop down into the water, so that Clarke could mimic her.

She was treading patiently below, waiting for Clarke to make the swing. It took a little longer than she expected, but finally Clarke was whipping out into the air, suspended over the water, and bellowing at the top of her lungs before she let go. She fell at an odd angle, forgetting to put her feet first, but she plunged harmlessly into the water with a giant splash. Lexa swam after her at once and dove. She kept her eyes open under the water, but the sun decided to duck behind the clouds for a moment and it was darker than she expected.

For about two full seconds, her heart stopped dead when she couldn't find Clarke. But then the blonde appeared before her, flailing and kicking upwards to no avail. Lexa's heart started again when her hand grasped Clarke's wrist and she pulled her to the surface with one strong yank.

Emerging, Clarke took huge, gasping breaths, and Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist, supporting them both. Clarke frantically reached for her shoulders and held on tighter than necessary, almost pushing Lexa under the water, but Lexa's legs were strong and she managed to keep them both above the surface.

They looked at each other and promptly burst out laughing.

“That was so _awesome_!” Clarke exclaimed breathlessly. She was grinning from ear to ear, looking equal parts stunned and terrified. She shook her head wildly, panting. “I'm not doing it again though!”

Lexa laughed, nodding her agreement. That was about all the danger she could stand Clarke being put in today.


	33. Escape (Part 3)

“Come, let me show you where the army trains,” Lexa said, after she dried off and motioned for Clarke to follow her into the woods. “It should not have changed much since I was here.”

Clarke was panicked. She stared openly at Lexa's naked body before turning away and tilted her head to look at the sand instead.

“Uh, aren't you going to put clothes on?” she tried casually.

Lexa looked at her over her shoulder with a slight frown. “Why would I do that? The weather is sufficient.”

“It's not really practical to hike around the lake in the buff though.”

Lexa stopped walking and turned around, obviously confused by this line of questioning.

“Is there something wrong, Clarke? Is my body not appealing to you anymore?”

She rolled her eyes.

_Yeah._

_Because that was ever going to be a problem..._

“Look, I'm getting sunburned so I have to get dressed. You should too. Just to...support me...or something?” she finished lamely.

Lexa narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but she did see that Clarke was getting redder as the day went on.

“You're right, you should dress, Clarke. I will wait.”

Clarke groaned internally. Why did Lexa have to make this so difficult?

She pulled on her pants quickly and wrapped her chest before putting her shirt on.

“Okay, but are you _sure_ you want to be naked?” she pressed, a hint of sheepishness in her voice. “There's bugs and branches and, oh, what if someone comes along and accidentally surprises us? You want them to get the full view of the Commander?”

Lexa was walking back to her at this point, more concerned about Clarke's sudden persistence than confused at this point. “No one will see us, Clarke. I told you, it is a restricted area.”

Clarke glowered at her while brushing the sand off her feet and shoved them into her boots.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed, “but you're still going to have to put something on.”

Wholly exasperated, Lexa held her hands out in disbelief. “ _Why_?”

Clarke's cheeks reddened even more and Lexa knew it that wasn't from the sun at all.

“Because if you want me to hear anything you say,” she admitted throatily, “you can't be naked.”

Lexa's confused frustration evaporated at once and morphed into pure amusement. A smile graced her lips. She raised an eyebrow and lowered her head in a gentle nod before finding her own pants and stepped into them, tying them off at the waist. She didn't seem to care about finding a shirt.

“Are you more in control of your desires now, Clarke?” she said cheekily, gesturing to her still half unclothed body. “Will this be sufficient or should I put on more layers so that you will not be as tormented?”

Clarke's wanted to go drown herself in the lake from the sheer humiliation. Partly because she had to admit to Lexa that she was so easily distracted and partly because, _no_ , it was not enough. She was still topless and, if anything, she'd just made herself more appealing than when she had nothing on...

But it wasn't like Clarke couldn't tell her that now!

Lexa smirked knowingly and she picked up her discarded tank top, tying it off around her neck. She didn't bother to put her second long sleeved shirt on, but Clarke breathed a little easier now.

With a cocky grin, Lexa sauntered off, crooking a finger at Clarke, wordlessly telling her to follow.

“You didn't have to be a dick about it...” Clarke muttered, still thoroughly humiliated, but Lexa had already disappeared into the thicket.

* * *

They hiked a couple miles around the lake. Lexa walked Clarke through the various areas they used for training, each one designated for a different skill. Archery in the woods with numerous targets, both immobile and ones swinging from branches. Rock climbing through scaling the cliff side. Agility over a path of slippery stones that were just inches above the surface of the lake.

Lexa demonstrated by running at a full sprint across the path of sharp, slick rocks on tip toe. She never faltered. When she got to the end, she did a tiny leap that was purely flourish.

Lexa was showing off and Clarke knew it full well.

She put a foot on the rock nearest to her and nearly lost her balance. It was like someone had spread grease over it. Upon further inspection, the grease theory wasn't too far off. There was some unknown substance on the rocks to make them even more treacherous than just slick with water.

“You could have killed yourself doing that!” Clarke cried, her head snapping up to look at Lexa. “How did you just... _run_?”

“ _Ai laik Heda, Klark. Ai gafa uf in em ai dula op ogeda,”_ she said with a smirk.

_I am the Commander, Clarke. I have the power, I can do anything._

Clarke rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. _“Heda, din em yuj loda nou wichnes em yuj op ogud.”_

_Commander, you have more confidence than what's good for you._

Lexa laughed and took Clarke's hand, leading her away without another word. Clarke would have gotten in some more teasing at Lexa's cockiness, but every thought flew out of her head when Lexa's hand slipped into hers.

Stunned into silence, she allowed Lexa to lead her into the woods and never once stopped marveling at the butterflies in her stomach simply because Lexa hold her hand so freely.

It was dumb that she would be so affected by something as innocent as hand holding, especially when her intimacy with Lexa had evolved well beyond that point...but she couldn't help it. There was something so sweet and lovely about being able to just hold her hand as they walked side by side. They could never do this in _Polis_.

Clarke tugged gently so that Lexa would look at her and when their eyes met, they both smiled. Lexa had to turn back to the path they were on, but Clarke kept her adoring gaze on the woman beside her. She raised their linked hands to brush her lips against Lexa's knuckles, pulling her closer to her as they walked. Lexa squeezed tightly in reply, but kept her eyes forward as they made their way over dead leaves, branches, and the underbrush.

They ended up in a clearing. There were clear signs that it had been used recently. Marks against the trees, dozens and dozens of footprints in the hard packed dirt. There were ashes all around them from fire pits. Clarke was pretty sure the few darker spots she saw were from dried blood.

Lexa said that they used this place for hand to hand combat training.

She held Clarke's hand the entire time as they wandered around the place together and she told her stories about what it was like training here. How they were some of her fondest memories. What is was like to have Anya as her mentor. The pressure of knowing she could one day be commander, but on the days they were allowed to train here, that burden seemed a little lighter.

Clarke listened to it all, soaking it in, and brushing her thumb over Lexa's every now and again to encourage her to keep going. To tell her more.

Lexa stopped in the middle of a story about how Anya purposely sabotaged her during training by sweeping her legs out from under her and allowed Lexa's opponent to keep attacking and pulled Clarke closer to her.

“You have not been sleeping well.”

Clarke blinked, taken aback by the abrupt change in topics.

“Just dreams...” she said unconvincingly.

“More than dreams, Clarke.”

“ _Nightmares_ ,” she admitted reluctantly and extracted her hand from Lexa's so that she could wrap her arms around herself. “Why are we talking about this? You were telling me about how Anya left you to get the crap kicked out of you.”

“She was teaching me how to survive.”

“By letting you get beaten?”

“Yes. If I won every fight, how would I ever be expected to survive a loss?”

“I thought the point was to never lose.”

“Only ignorant people believe they can never lose, Clarke. I still have the scars from that day, but when I remember that moment, I do not remember the wounds inflicted or the pain I felt. I remember my fingers in the dirt, my head telling me to push past the pain. I remember rising and using every last bit of strength left in me to fight back. I fought wildly and ineffectively, but I stayed on my feet until finally we were called to stop. I did not win, but I did not lose either. My pain became my strength, my necessary purpose, the clarity I needed to _ste yuj_. It is easy to win when you are quick to enough to avoid pain, but true battles are won by those who are strong enough to endure.”

“Anya taught her lesson well then,” Clarke said softly. “What you were able to do in your trial...how you won...”

“Tell me about your nightmares,” Lexa said, clearly of a different mind.

Clarke sighed. “I keep...I don't always remember them, but I still know what they are.”

She bit her lower lip, unable to look at Lexa just now.

“They're memories of what I did. Visions. Images. The smell. The feeling of the gun in my hand. The steel handle of the lever. The people I killed. _Innocent people.”_ She inhaled sharply. _“_ Sometimes I think I just dream of blood, Lexa, and I drown in it.”

She scrubbed her face harshly, as if that would help dispel the memory, wipe herself clean from the invisible stains.

“ _Innocent people_ ,” Lexa echoed gently, “innocent like you believe the woman from _Azgeda_ that was posing as Princess Mara?”

Of course Lexa had put it together. Clarke hadn't slept through the night since the body was brought before them.

“She was a bystander,” Clarke said bitterly. “For all we know, Lexa, she could have been forced into captivity. _Forced_ to pose as the Princess. Nia knew people would come for Mara and she let this girl be set up for the fall. Your assassin told you that she didn't fight – she didn't even know how to defend herself. Nia knowingly offered her up for slaughter.”

“Clarke...”

“I killed them _all_! Children too. I killed them because I was protecting my people. Most of the people in there had nothing to do with what was happening. They didn't know what they were doing my people. Some of them were even _helping_ us. I killed them. They were bystanders too. What makes me any different from Nia? She was protecting her daughter. I was protecting my people. Yet, you say I'm supposed to forgive myself.”

Lexa took a step towards her with her arms outstretched imploringly. “The _Maunon knew_ it was my people's blood that sustained them - that killing others was the only way they lived. No one is innocent, Clarke. Perhaps they did not deserve to die, but in war, there are always losses on both sides. It has always been that way and it will always be that way.”

“Yeah cause they just give out nicknames like _Wanheda_ to everyone who comes along in a war, right? Little merit badges for everyone who participated? _Totally normal,”_ she sneered.

Lexa sighed. “Why do you detest the title so?”

Clarke glared at her in disbelief. “Because of what I did to _attain it_. How can you even ask me--”

“Commander of Death,” Lexa interrupted unapologetically. “You see it as though it means you are only suited for the _taking_ of life. It is not. It is _dominion_ over life and death. Without life, there is no death. You can choose to spare people from death or you can deliver it to them. Commander means one that _rules_ , Clarke. Instead of thinking about those who died, think about those who lived as a result of your actions. You will never forget what happened and it will never feel right, but it was necessary. You saved your people.”

_Learning to endure pain to grow stronger._

Clarke wasn't having it.

“At the cost of too many. I didn't just kill the ones hurting us, Lexa. I killed _all_ of them. They didn't deserve it. What gives me the right to say who lives and who dies? I can't be _Wanheda_. No one deserves that kind of power.”

“And yet you have it,” she said simply. “There is a reason why you were put here Clarke, a reason why you were given that choice, and a reason why you have been given _Wanheda_. Your destiny is much more than what you believe right now. So choose life. Protect our people, Clarke. Help me achieve peace so that the sacrifice of those in the Mountain – and those who I will soon take in this war – will mean something. It will mean steps towards a lasting peace and a future where the new generations will never have to make the choices we've made.”

“Lexa...” she murmured breathlessly.

Her thoughts last night when she stood on the balcony were being echoed here. Lexa understood her all too well, she knew what Clarke faced, she knew the balance that Clarke was desperately seeking.

Lexa knew because she was looking for it too.

Clarke collapsed heavily onto a felled log and watched as Lexa paced slowly in front of her.

“War is ugly and the results are never what we want yet war is all we seem to know...” Lexa exhaled wearily. There was such sadness in her. “We need a different path, Clarke. Both of us. But I do not know how to get us there.”

“I know you don't want this war.”

“I have no choice. It is kill or be killed. _Azgeda_ will--”

“We _don't know_ what Mara will do!” Clarke cried, breaking her silence about it at long last, and slapped her hands down on the log in frustration. “We keep thinking she's like Nia, but what if...what if she's not?”

“That would be wishful thinking and foolish to rely on,” Lexa replied coldly.

“It's an _option_ ,” Clarke persisted. “Your ambassadors and your advisers refuse to hear any talk of reaching out and talking to the Ice Nation leaders. They know one way, _the old way_ , but you can overrule them. You see how there can be more to life than this. And what do we have to lose? We're already prepared for war. You've already tried to kill her. Why not explore the third choice here?”

Lexa stopped pacing and stood in front of her, staring her down. “And the third choice is what? Allowing a Queen's death to go unavenged? Dozens of soldiers dead by execution in marked act of war?”

“ _Yes_.”

“You have no idea what _Azgeda_ are like, Clarke. All that they have done, what they pride themselves on, how their people are raised--”

“Yes, and many years of that flourished under _Queen Nia_.”

“It's not just _Azgeda!_ Clarke, _jus drein jus daun!”_ Lexa exclaimed frustratedly. “It is our way. It has _always_ been our way. I destroyed any chance of that when I took Nia's life and executed every _Azgeda_ warrior within the walls of the capital. If there ever was a chance before that, it no longer exists. _Azgeda_ must respond, I gave them no choice. _Jus drein jus daun._ ”

But Clarke wasn't convinced. She stood up and stepped towards Lexa. “You're different from the Commanders before you. Your people speak of it all the time...how you have achieved things no one else believed possible. You are _different,_ Lexa. Why can't Mara be different too?”

Lexa huffed. “She's Nia's child.”

“Biology doesn't dictate who a person is.”

“You dream, Clarke.”

“You want to dream with me.”

“Of course I do!” she exclaimed in a brief flash of desperation that stabbed at Clarke's heart. “But what you ask is _impossible_. Too much is at stake. We show our hand only to have it cut off? It will weaken us, make us look like fools.”

“Isn't stopping yet another war worth risking looking like a fool for? Listen to me, Lexa, you're right. I don't know the history of _Azgeda_ , of your people. That's why I have been with you every step for this move against the Ice Nation. Every war council, I have supported you because it was not my place to judge when they are not my people and this was not my war. But you changed that. You made us the 13th clan. You asked me to be an ambassador. _We_...”

She swallowed those words.

“I am in this _with_ you now. I see how this is affecting you. You hate every second of being with the war council, plotting the invasion, discussing different forms of attack, anticipating strategic losses. All you see is more war, more violence, more blood, and more death. _It tears you apart_.”

Clarke sighed and stepped back, waving her arms to the sanctuary around them.

“Look at this place, Lexa. It's _so beautiful_. Yet, look at what you use it for. Violence. War. Bloodshed.”

Clarke stepped over to a nearby tree and yanked out a lone, forgotten arrow from the trunk.

“Imagine a world where instead of target practice, children would run free - free to play all day long instead of only for the short break their given between their training lessons. Imagine them chasing each other with imaginary arrows and swords because they have never needed the real thing and they never will. Imagine families coming here for a day, to spend time together without fear, without the threat of violence. Imagine laughter echoing across this lake instead of this silence or the sound of generals shouting orders and steel clashing against steel. Can you see that? Because _that_ is peace. That is what you have tirelessly been fighting for. That could be your gift to your people. _That_ could be your legacy.”

“ _Clarke_...”

She dropped the arrow on the ground.

“Everything you have done since I've met you has been for peace, Lexa. It's why you demanded Finn's life instead of declaring war on all of us. It's why you broke the alliance to get as many of your people out safely and protect your army instead of fighting. It's why you spared Nia that day on the battlefield instead of taking your vengeance. You see things in a way that your people cannot.” She sighed, shaking her head with incredulous wonder. “Lexa...you are... _extraordinary_.”

Lexa inhaled sharply.

“You have to try. You have to at least _try_ for peace before sending your army into the Ice Nation. Give Mara a chance. Find a _better_ way. What if blood must _not_ have blood? Someone has to take the first step. Let it be you.”

Lexa stared at her for a long moment before turning away.

“We should go back,” she said quietly.

Clarke shoulders slumped in defeat as she let out the breath she'd been holding.

Holding for _Lexa_.

But she failed. Lexa didn't hear her. 

Her entire body seemed to sink and she lowered her head as Lexa walked away. She couldn't make her feet move just yet. She was rooted to the spot, in this clearing, with blood from days past still seeping into the ground.

She lost the battle and now they would go to war.

* * *

They packed up their things on the beach and said a silent farewell to the day. Dusk fell on them as they rode back to _Polis._ They hadn't spoken since Lexa walked away from her in the clearing. Clarke was acutely aware of the horse between her legs, Lexa pressed against her back, her strong thighs melded against Clarke's intimately. But it didn't feel the same as it did when they were riding this morning. There was a wall between them now and Clarke couldn't break it down.

The trees creaked and groaned in the wind, leaves rustled. the horse snorted and grunted restlessly, panting, hoof beats sounded in a steady rhythm against the ground, birds called in the distance, and Lexa's breathing was soft next to her ear, she could feel her chest rise and fall against her back with how closely they were pressed against each other.

After nearly an hour of riding in this silence together, it was Lexa who broke it.

“A world in which violence does not always answer violence,” she whispered. “A world in which our children will flourish without the shadow of death. _A new future_.”

Clarke turned to look over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the haunted look in Lexa's eyes. She knew from the way Lexa said it that this was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that she had thought of those words.

“I do see it, Clarke. I have seen it for so... _very_...long. But I am afraid,” she breathed, “that I will not be able to achieve it - that I will not be strong enough.”

It tore at Clarke's heart to hear her so vulnerable. All she could do was be brave for her in return and to tell her the truth.

“I _know_ that you are.”

Lexa said nothing more, but her arms settled lower on Clarke's waist, holding her more purposefully than before as she kept a steady grip on the reins.

Maybe she hadn't lost the battle entirely.

* * *

When they arrive at the old tunnel they used to slip out the first time, Indra was waiting for them. Her head snapped up when the appeared and Clarke saw how anxious she looked.

Earlier, she asked Lexa if she really didn't tell anyone where they were going and Lexa admitted that she looped Indra in just so that there would be no widespread panic if they were discovered missing. Indra disapproved, of course, and it took several firm orders from Lexa for her not to attempt to send guards with them, but she kept their secret - ever loyal.

Lexa guided their horse to a stop as Indra stepped forward.

“What is it?” she asked, low and even.

Her voice and expression didn't give away her concern, but Clarke could feel how Lexa's body had tensed the moment they saw Indra.

“ _Heda_ , a woman arrived early this afternoon seeking audience with you – she said it was a matter of grave importance and time sensitive. I secured her in the cages awaiting your return.”

“You imprisoned her just for _asking_ to see the Commander?” Clarke echoed in disbelief.

Indra glared up at her sharply, but did not answer.

Lexa swung down from the horse, taking the bridle, and walked alongside Indra as they entered the capital again. Clarke stayed perched on top of the horse, listening to them carefully.

“Well?”

“She would not say who she was or what her purpose here is. Only that she has a message for you.”

“A message from who?”

“ _Queen Mara_.”

Clarke closed her eyes and watched the lake with it's brilliant blue and shimmering diamonds slip away.

 


	34. Deception

Lexa was sitting on her throne while all 13 ambassadors were seated around her in a nearly complete circle. Clarke was sitting in the chair closest to her on the left. The room was filled with delegates, advisers, and attendants. Anyone in Lexa's political circle had gathered into the crowded room to hear from this messenger. What she said today would determine what would come next in this stand off with _Azgeda_. Kane and Sinclair with a few other members of the _Skaikru_ were among the crowd, standing silently next to each other in anticipation. Two sentries opened the doors and brought the messenger in to kneel before the Commander.

She was very tall, her long auburn hair was plaited and reached her waist, but it was still frizzy so she had stray curls springing everywhere. Her face was clean and youthful - there were no visible tattoos or _Azgeda_ scars. She wore ratty, fur lined clothes that was clearly Ice Nation attire. She wasn't attractive by conventional standards, but Clarke couldn't call her plain either. There was just something about the way she carried herself, the arch of her brow, the length of her neck, the strength of her jaw... Clarke couldn't think of the word to describe what she was thinking.

The girl looked remarkably composed considering the danger she was in, surrounded by enemies, and kneeling before Lexa who could have her head with a snap of her fingers.

She had gone willingly to her knees without needing the sentries to guide her there and bowed her head in deference before looking back up and met Lexa's eyes straight on. Her hands her bound but she had them gently clasped so it hardly looked as if she was a prisoner.

She didn't speak.

Lexa allowed the silence for a long beat and Clarke could see that she was appraising the girl, taking everything in, not rushing her next move. This girl looked like she could be a warrior, but she wasn't dressed as one, didn't move like one, and she was looking Lexa in the eye unflinchingly.

“When you arrived at the gates, you told the sentries you had a message for me,” Lexa said calmly. “Well...here you are.”

The girl nodded. “I do have a message, _Heda_. But my orders are to ask you a question first.”

Lexa's eyes narrowed.

“ _Heda, nou badan disha feik Haimplana's op ron raun em nowe!_ ” Akseli, the Sankru ambassador cut in sharply.

_The Commander does not answer to this false Queen's messenger!_

“ _Em pleni,”_ Lexa didn't take her eyes off the girl, but her tone was enough to shut him down.

He settled back in his chair grudgingly and said nothing else.

She tilted her head at the girl and gave her a slight nod. “... _Ena_? _Chit bilaik prom?_ ”

_...Well? What is the question?_

The girl seemed intrigued by Lexa _allowing_ the inquiry. Clarke could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her lips, but it was gone in an instant.

“My Queen wishes to understand why, if the Commander truly desires peace, she would then commit such outrageous acts of war against _Azgeda_?”

There was a ripple of disapproving murmurs through the room, getting louder with each second that Lexa didn't respond.

Some people grumbled under their breath, but a few voices from the crowd cried out angrily.

“ _Azgeda natrona!”_

_Ice Nation traitor!_

“ _Stedaun gon Azgeda!”_

_Death to the Ice Nation!_

Indra stepped forward from where she stood off to the side of Lexa's throne and shouted, “ _Pleni!_ _Yu na spek daun ona disha wogeda!”_

_Enough! You will show respect in this chamber!_

Lexa held her hand up and the chatter stopped at once. Indra stepped back, resuming her post, but looking testy as ever.

“You ask this assuming that I will allow you to return to your Queen,” Lexa said thoughtfully. “What makes you so sure that I will let you leave or that I will even let you live at all?”

“I have my orders, Commander. That is all I know. Ask this question and then my message will be based on the answer you give...or _do not_ give.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow at that.

“Indeed...” she murmured, almost to herself. “You have more than one reply from your Queen? She gave you this power?”

“ _Sha, Heda_.”

Lexa watched her carefully for a long moment, Clarke could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, calculating the right move, analyzing the girl before her, planning her next words carefully.

She could simply refuse to answer, as was within her power, and order the messenger taken away and tortured for information. If she did that, her people would see it as strength and commitment to war against _Azgeda_. The messenger would be treated as if from the enemy they are at war with, not just a rogue nation. Or she could answer the question honestly. It would give the messenger more power than she should ever have – which is why it was so disrespectful for her to ask and caused the negative reaction from the crowd. But if Lexa did answer...what would the true reply be? Mara had authorized more than one option. That alone was practically unheard of.

Lexa sat back in her throne and rapped her nails against the wooden armrests.

“Queen Nia openly committed treason. She kidnapped _Wanheda_ in attempt to take her power and usurp my rule. She moved her warriors against me. I cut them down for their treachery and executed her as dictated by our laws. Those that were with her in the capital were executed as well, dying a traitor's death alongside their Queen. If _Azgeda_ chooses to see this as a means for war, then so be it.”

The room was filled with murmurs again. The Commander had just allowed the Ice Nation to question her. She hadn't even given a reply in her own trial, yet she allowed a plebeian messenger to have her explain her actions. Clarke understood exactly why she was doing this, even if the rest of the people in the room did not.

It was a _chance_.

The _last_ chance they had for something different.

“However, I do not wish for war. If your Queen wishes to swear allegiance to me and the Coalition, then _Azgeda_ will be welcomed back as one of us. The crimes of the past should not dictate our future.”

The room went eerily silent. Everyone was waiting for the messenger to respond.

“That is your answer,” Lexa said and rose to her feet. She took a few steps down, off the dais, to stand over the kneeling girl. “Now...” she said with a dangerous edge to her voice, “you will tell me _who you are_.”

The girl looked up at Lexa with a knowing smile that baffled Clarke.

Jarunn leaned forward anxiously. She seemed to be the only other one in the room beside Lexa and the messenger that seemed to understand what was happening.

“ _Heda, em nou skaren Azegda ai op,”_ she said in a terse warning.

_Commander, she has no Ice Nation scarring._

Lexa nodded in acknowledgment, still staring down at the girl. Clearly, she had already picked up on that. She didn't seem to care about the actual message from Mara anymore, just this girl.

“I will not ask again,” Lexa said warningly.

The girl hesitated for a moment, considering it, then she slowly rose to her feet before Lexa. The sentries moved to force her down again, but Lexa waved them away. When she rose to full height, she was several inches taller than Lexa, and practically towered over her. But Lexa didn't so much as blink.

The word that eluded Clarke earlier when she was trying to think of what was different about this girl, how to describe her, finally popped into her head with an eye opening revelation.

_Regal._

Clarke shot up in her chair, barely able to keep herself seated, as she looked back and forth between Lexa and the girl while they stared at each other in an evenly locked challenge.

She wasn't a messenger.

She tilted her head at Lexa knowingly and when she spoke again, it was loud and clear, echoing through the chambers for every single person there to hear her.

“ _Ai laik Haimplana Mara kom Azgeda, goufa kom Haimplana Nia, en ai kom op hashta sisplei Heda kom Jus.”_

_I am Queen Mara of the Ice Nation, heir of Queen Nia, and I come seeking assistance from Commander of the Blood_

With her hands still bound, she reached up and pulled aside her high collar. And there, on the side of her neck, was the intricate, round scar of _Azgeda_ royalty. It was the same mark that Clarke saw the impostor bear.

A massive roar broke out from the crowd, along with the ambassadors, but Lexa was unfazed and ordered the room cleared at once. Indra took over and called for more sentries to remove the raucous crowd, some yelling horrible things about the Ice Nation, others accusing her of lying, and most just in a state of disbelief.

Clarke remained in her chair, watching Lexa and Mara stand off as the chambers gradually grew quieter until the last people were escorted out.

So this was the Princess? No... _the Queen_...they spoke about all this time.

She wasn't hiding. She was here, standing in front of Lexa, towering over her.

She may look like a Queen, or she would it if weren't for her worn attire and carelessly braided hair, but a Queen had her people. A Queen had an army. A Queen had power.

The girl standing there was bound at the wrists and there were no people behind her. There was no army to be seen. But did she have power?

Sentries tried to remain at their post, but Lexa dismissed them as well. Indra returned once the room was clear and the doors were closed behind her, leaving the three of them alone.

“ _Dison feik au, Heda! Em spicha!”_ she said furiously. _  
_

_A trick, Commander! She lies!_

“She's not an impostor, Indra,” Lexa said firmly. “Remove her bindings.”

“Commander, you cannot--”

“ _Indra_ ,” she cut her off warningly. “Do it.”

With a huff, Indra yanked out her knife and roughly cut the ties from Mara's hands. She didn't move much, just laced them in front of her with a nod of gratitude.

“An _impostor_...” Mara repeated, taking it in. “I see. I assume you've had them all killed by now?”

Clarke was reeling.

_So there were more? Their suspicions were correct...  
_

Lexa eyed the girl carefully for a moment. “Only one,” she replied truthfully, seeing what that would get her.

Mara seemed surprised by that. She stood still, rooted to the spot, as Lexa circled around her. The natural born predator inspecting its prey.

“You have been a mystery, Queen Mara. And now you show your face in _Polis_ after all this time...” Lexa chuckled a bit incredulously. “You have my attention.”

“I am honored to finally have the chance to meet you, Commander.”

Lexa came round to stand in front of her again, looking up at her with hard eyes. “You know how dangerous it is for you to be here. I should strike you down this very second. Why are you here?”

“I told you, I need your help.”

“To do what?”

“To find my son and prevent a war.”

“Your son?” Clarke broke in without thinking twice.

Mara looked at her, realizing for the first time that Clarke was in the room with them. She seemed unsure of answering to Clarke, but with Lexa's stern gaze on her, awaiting the answer, she knew that Clarke was someone important enough to have the right to question her.

“He was taken from me.”

“By who?”

“Her people,” Lexa answered instead and they both turned to her in surprise.

Lexa took a few steps away from Mara, deep in thought.

“You have no control over them, do you?” Lexa asked without needing an answer. She seemed to be two steps ahead of Clarke and Indra on this one. “They do not accept you as Queen.”

Mara bristled. “Most do,” she said tightly.

“But the _right_ ones do not,” Lexa elaborated.

Mara nodded ruefully. “At my mother's behest.”

Lexa turned to her, hands clasped behind her back and her chin raised knowingly. “She did not just hide you for secrecy, she hid you because she did not want you to take the throne.”

Mara shrugged, cagey in her reply, “We never really saw eye to eye.”

“So what use do I have for you?” Lexa returned simply. “Why shouldn't I kill you here and now?”

“I am a willing ally and my power will be yours if you help me reclaim the throne. I believe that you do not want to overthrow _Azgeda_ , that you desire peace with us. I have staked my life on that belief by coming to you today – defenseless and wholly at your mercy.”

Lexa held up her hand, silencing her at once. Mara was pushing her luck by trying to use a silver tongue with her.

“That is enough for tonight," she said authoritatively. "Though you have come under a banner of peace, you know that I cannot allow you to roam freely. You will be confined to your chambers and under guard. I will take your offer under consideration. Until then, you will speak to no one outside of this room.”

She called for her sentries to return.

“ _Queen Mara,”_ she said in a dark, low, warning that left even Clarke unsettled, _“_ if you have uttered even a _single_ word of untruth tonight...or attempted to mislead me in any way...know that I will kill you. It will not be swift and you will have no mercy.”

Mara stared back at her unflinchingly. “I expect nothing less, _Heda_.”

Lexa waved her hands. “Take her.”

The sentries took hold of her on each side. Lexa glanced at Indra, wordlessly beckoning her to make the arrangements for Mara's confinement. Indra went forward at once and led the sentries and Mara out of the throne room.

When they were finally alone, Clarke looked to Lexa with wide eyes. Lexa sat back in her chair, gripping the wooden armrests until her knuckles turned white.

“I _really_ didn't see that coming.”

Lexa didn't seem to hear her at first, but after a long pause, she sighed and met Clarke's gaze with a rueful smile.

“Well, we already knew you didn't share Ford's talents.”

 


	35. Nepropid

Clarke groaned and fisted the sheets in her hands, pressing her face deep into the bed. She felt feverish and heady; the room was spinning.

“Shh...” Lexa murmured, her hands moving over Clarke's bare skin.

She gasped and whined. “ _Lexa_...”

“Breathe, Clarke.”

“This. Fucking. Sucks!”

Lexa used the last of the salve from the jar and gently spread it over Clarke's backside and down her thighs, trying to soothe the angry red, tender flesh.

Clarke had never been sunburned before in her life. She had no idea it could hurt this much or make her feel this sick. She spent an hour in a cold tub, trying to cool off, before Lexa convinced her that she was only making it worse.

“Poor little pale Sky Girl...”

“I _hate_ you,” she grunted, muffled by the mattress. “This is all your fault. Your stupid insistence on going there today...”

Lexa's hands stilled in a way that made Clarke's stomach drop.

“Do you...do you regret going?”

She sounded so nervous, so vulnerable.

Clarke forgot about the pain she was in and lifted her head, meeting those worried green eyes.

“Never,” she said strongly, willing the other girl with ever fiber of her being to know just how much she meant that. “Today was...it was _perfect,_ Lexa. I couldn't have asked for anything better. Except for...you know...this part. I could have done without this part.”

Lexa sighed, relieved, and continued to spread the salve over Clarke's back. She changed the subject quickly. “Pliya is a very good healer. Salves like these are her specialty. She assured me you will feel much better in a day or two.”

“I miss Enock,” Clarke said moodily.

“You know he is away working with your mother and the other healers to prepare for...”

Lexa couldn't finish that. She didn't know what the preparation was for at this moment. Would there be war? Was it a trick? Was this a true chance – against all hope?

Abby was working with Nyko to gather the largest group of healers that they could and to use it as time to train them in the medical knowledge that _Skaikru_ had to offer. The urgency was to prepare them for treating war wounds, whether or not that war would come. It meant more time away from Arkadia for the Chancellor, and Kane was in _Polis_ , but they both felt confident in being absent for the short while with how stable their community was now. They had yet to hold an election because of the chaotic outside pressure. Last Clarke knew from Kane, her mother was still intent on giving up the seat to him.

“I still miss Enock,” Clarke grumbled. “Pliya can go suck--”

“ _Clarke._ ”

“I. Am. In. Pain.”

“I understand that very well. You have repeated yourself many times in the last few hours.”

“I really don't think you get it though.”

“You're as red as a river _dosydiku_ , Clarke. I understand.”

She huffed and looked back at Lexa with an open mouth. “Are you insulting me right now? Really? _Now_?”

Lexa covered her mouth with the back of her hand, desperately trying not to laugh. Clarke's face was flaming red to match the rest of her body. Clarke smacked her hands away and rolled off the bed, only to regret it instantly because the sheets against her skin was like rubbing sandpaper over an open wound.

She groaned loudly and stood up, keeping her legs apart and her arms slightly lifted, so that no part of her body would come into contact. Her skin was raw and she felt like she was on fire. The heat seeped deep below the surface in such an achingly uncomfortable way that drained her of all strength.

“Can you just throw me out the window and be done with it? I can't stand this for another second.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and got to her feet as well. She reached for a cup of water and a second jar of salve. She'd only covered Clarke's back so far, the front had yet to be touched. She looked pityingly at Clarke, who was trying not to move, and kissed the reddened tip of her nose sweetly.

“No. Now, drink,” she said, lifting the cup to Clarke's chapped lips.

“I'm not thirsty,” she protested.

“You know better than I do that your body needs it.”

“I don't care. I feel sick to my stomach.”

“This will help. This and the salve. Now, _drink_.”

Clarke accepted the water this time and allowed Lexa to gently guide her back onto the bed. She grunted and groaned at every movement until she was finally laid flat on her back and refused to move an inch more.

“I look like I've been roasted alive.”

Lexa hummed under her breath. “You are far too undercooked to eat.”

Clarke's mouth dropped in disbelief.

Lexa could not stop her laughter this time, but she ended Clarke's angry rant before it began by smoothing the salve over the raw skin of her chest. Clarke inhaled sharply at the cool relief the salve brought, improved greatly by Lexa's knowing touch.

“Does it help?”

“A little,” Clarke mumbled, closing her eyes, trying to take whatever relief she could.

Lexa's hands slid over her breasts, coating her in the slick, clear ointment. It smelled much better than Clarke thought it would – a fragrant herbal flowery scent. If only she weren't in such goddamn agony right now...this could have been a very different kind of moment.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“What happened tonight. I need to get my mind off this misery and we need to talk about what you plan to do.”

Lexa spread more of the cooling salve over Clarke's belly. She could feel the unnatural amount of heat emanating from Clarke's burned skin, warming her own fingers.

“Did you believe her?” Lexa asked quietly, focused on her task, while Clarke kept her eyes firmly shut.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she showed you her weakness.”

“It could be a lie,” Lexa reasoned.

“I don't think she's telling us everything, but her son...that's real.”

“How do you know?”

“My mother,” Clarke said simply. “The look in Mara's eyes tonight? I've seen that before. _Too many_ _times._ ”

“It does make sense,” Lexa admitted. “Why Nia hid her all this time, that she would ensure her lineage by having the boy taken and raised by _Azgeda_ Elders. If she did not believe Mara fit...”

“But that leads to our next problem.”

Lexa nodded even though Clarke couldn't see her.

“Yes. If I choose to believe she is who she says she is, that her words were true, then she is not _truly_ Queen. She has no power over her people. It is the Elders who rule now until her son is old enough to take over.”

“Which means her alliance and loyalty to you amounts to practically nothing,” Clarke continued for her. “What good is a Queen who is not Queen?”

“Nia never weakened Mara's stature because that would have weakened her grandchild's position as well. As far as _Azgeda_ people believe...Mara is their Queen. They just believe she is acting through the Elders. They would never accept such an arrangement otherwise."

“Could you put her back on the throne? Remove the Elders?”

“I believe so. But...” she trailed off and when she didn't speak again for a moment, Clarke opened her eyes, peering up at her.

“What?”

“I doubt her son will survive,” Lexa admitted. “It is possible that they would rather see him dead than fall into the enemy's hands. If her child dies, Mara will never abide her oath, and I will have put the next _Azgeda_ tyrant in power with everything she needs to move against me. The cycle begins once more.”

Clarke nodded. “It's a risk.”

Lexa scoffed in amusement. “And you are about to tell me why I should risk it.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You already know why it's a risk worth taking.”

Lexa sighed deeply, knowingly.

“ _Peace_.”

They were quiet for a while as Lexa slowly and methodically coated every inch of Clarke's sunburned body with the calming salve. Clarke focused on the sound of Lexa's breathing above her and the feeling of her gentle fingertips sliding over her inflamed skin. She couldn't think about Mara and _Azgeda_ anymore tonight. It'd been a long day and an even longer night. She was also excruciatingly hot and uncomfortable, her own flesh burning her from the outside in.

“...what's a _dosydiku?”_ Clarke asked lazily, breaking the silence.

Lexa hummed softly, taking a moment before she replied, _“_ A water creature that has many tentacles and can be quite ferocious when it's hunting, but we have nets to catch them and they taste quite good once fully cooked.”

“Tentacles? Like...like a squid?”

“Yes!” Lexa said, eyes lighting up with recognition. “I'd forgotten the term in _gonasleng_ , but yes, _dosydiku_ means squid.”

“So you called me a slimy, tentacle, freakish looking sea creature?”

“They're not just from the ocean, Clarke. They populate our rivers in many areas.”

She smacked her away again and Lexa sat back in exasperation.

“ _Clarke_...”

“Get your hands off me!”

“You're being absurd.”

“You called me a _squid_!”

Lexa narrowed her eyes. “I will call you worse in a moment.”

“Fucking _try_ ,” Clarke spat, glaring at her fiercely.

Lexa tried to be even the slightest bit annoyed, but it wasn't working. She looked down at that pitiful red sunburned face and felt nothing but adoration. She couldn't be upset with Clarke when she looked so miserable. She leaned down and brushed her lips ever so lightly against Clarke's, never breaking their gaze.

“I am sorry I said you look like a river _dosydiku,_ Clarke.”

She huffed grudgingly. “That's better.”

“You look like a _n_ _epropid_ really.”

Lexa collapsed into a fit of giggles while Clarke loudly and profanely cursed her existence.

Deep down, Clarke knew she really couldn't argue with Lexa on this one. A lobster was fair comparison.

* * *

“I cannot _believe_ you.”

Lexa walked ahead of her, up the hillside.

“It is twice as hot as yesterday!”

The guards were behind her and Clarke could just _feel_ their annoyance at having to slow down for her as she made the trek up through a beaten path.

“I am burned from my actual eyelids to places that I didn't even know existed, or really just forgot existed, and _you_...what do you decide to do? You decide to have a council meeting _outdoors_! For the first time since I stepped foot in _Polis_! _Today_!”

Lexa was fully dressed in her formal Commander garb despite the heat and she made her way through the woods ahead of Clarke without a word. Clarke was sweating profusely from the thick heat and the sun beating down on her from overhead. The situation was made so much worse because she had to have every inch of her covered, long sleeves, pants, and she even draped a hood over her head to shade her face from the sun. She was beyond miserable after a terrible night's sleep and then she woke up this morning only to have Lexa inform her that the council would not be meeting in the throne room, where it was cool and dark and had a lovely breeze, no, no. Today, the day that Clarke's sunburn reached peak points of pain, they would be meeting _outside_.

Clarke would have strangled Lexa if she hadn't left as quickly as she announced it to attend to some other responsibilities before the meeting.

“What is so goddamn important about being out here instead of indoors, where we usually always are, that would make you think it's okay to subject me to this? I swear, you are the most insu--”

Clarke swallowed the rest of her words and stopped in her tracks. They had reached a shady, wooded clearing. The trees overhead were thick with leaves, overlapping each other, blocking out the majority of the heat from the sun. The grassy clearing was broken up by large, ancient moss covered boulders. It wasn't flat, but the stones and hills had been manipulated into something useful. Seating areas, steps, climbing walls, etc. There were large, open spots cleaned out for what was clearly intended for training. The clearing itself opened into a cliff with a wide, unobstructed, and breathtaking view of _Polis_. Lexa's palace rose above the city, at the epicenter of it all. A few feet before the cliff drop, there was a massive, shallow stone well, filled with – what Clarke hoped was – cool, _clean_ water.

But all of this was not the reason why Clarke had shut her mouth so quickly.

On the other side of the clearing, near the most shaded area, were several people putting the finishing touches on a newly built and fully covered pergola. It was long enough to fit seating for all 12 ambassadors and Clarke saw exactly where her place was because standing by a chair near the middle were two young boys holding what looked like very large fans.

Lexa turned around and simply looked at her.

Clarke was rapidly drowning in shame and she tried to say something, but nothing came out, so she just closed her mouth again lamely.

“I accept your apology,” Lexa said flatly and raised her eyebrow in a final chastising look before she swept away to talk to some of the ambassadors who had already arrived.

Clarke watched her interact with the others for a moment before finally succumbing to her need to duck and hide. She found her place under the pergola and sat down The boys startled her when they started waving the fans, but she quickly settled. It did feel really good to have that breeze on her burning face. She pulled off the hood and rested her head back miserably.

She didn't know how to do this. She didn't know how to let someone take care of her like this. She was the one who did the care-taking, she was the one who looked after everybody. She'd never had someone just...anticipate her needs like Lexa did, protecting her, _loving_ her...

Lexa was a constant paradox. Clarke thought of it all the time, but once again it was smacking her across the face. Lexa was capable of such compassion and tenderness, but she could also be ruthless, dangerous, and extraordinarily violent. How did those two combine in one person? One was the Commander, the other was Lexa, but they still co-existed in one body, in one soul, and they were entwined in the most inexplicable ways.

When Lexa did things like this...tending to her last night by rubbing salve over every inch of Clarke's raw flesh, how she came after her – even after Clarke abandoned her – and rescued her from Nia, how she stayed at her side even when it was dangerous to do so, how she'd brought her dinner the night of the celebration, how she thought to give Clarke back Litta's knife, how she comforted her after every nightmare, how she took Clarke away from the stifling confines of the capital and opened up a piece of her past for Clarke to _swim_ through, how she kissed her, how she made love to her...

Every time Lexa did something so unexpected, something so gentle and tender and _loyal_...it made Clarke want to melt, want to cry, and it made her angry.

 _Angry_.

Because how dare she.

How dare Lexa let this happen.

How dare she love her like this.

Lexa gave all of herself to Clarke and Clarke almost hated her for it. Almost.

Because how could Lexa give this to her, show her what it was like to be so incredibly loved and cared for, show her what it was like not to do everything on her own, allow her to share burden instead of carrying the weight on her own two shoulders, show her what it was like to rely on someone, to love someone, to _need_...

How dare she...when she knew, just as Clarke knew...that it would inevitably be ripped from their grasp. What they were, what they would be, it wouldn't last. Their worlds had proved that to them time and again. It was never a matter of if, but when.

Clarke was still holding back the last bits of herself from being consumed so completely by Lexa, just the deepest, darkest parts. The little pieces of yourself in the corners that you locked away, never thinking you'd open them again for anyone. But Lexa had given herself over and in doing so, it took all of Clarke's strength not to fall into it with her. Not to give up every last semblance of self with her.

Because it wouldn't – it couldn't – stay this way.

But then Lexa did dumb fucking things like have a fucking pergola built in a few hours notice and arranged for a miserly sunburned Clarke to have personal aides fanning her in the shade so that she would be as comfortable as possible while attending her duties as ambassador in Lexa's fucking Coalition that was the only thing protecting her people right now.

Clarke sank down in her chair and tried to fight back the tears, covering her eyes with one hand. She was so ashamed and so overwhelmed. All she'd done was act like an ungrateful brat, taking and taking and taking from Lexa and there was never a word of complaint. Lexa just let her.

Clarke decided right then and there that she was going to do much better than this. She was going to be better for Lexa, she was going to be more of what Lexa deserved...or as much of it as she could be because Lexa deserved much more than Clarke believed herself capable of. Damned if she wasn't going to try with everything she had though.

She looked up at the wooden grate above her head, a canvas covering the holes, and wondered just how the hell Lexa thought up some of these over the top, romantic, wonderful things. She'd taken Clarke on a get away to the lake just because she knew she was struggling with her past. She had an entire structure built specifically for the purpose of making Clarke at ease because she knew very well that Lexa never would have bothered to worry about the comfort of the other ambassadors.

“ _Wanheda_...” one of the boys ventured tentatively and she looked at him curiously. “ _Ena ste kik raun? Du yu gaf sisfou?_ ”

_Are you well? Do you require assistance?_

He was still fanning her with even strokes, but exchanged worried glances with the other one across from him.

Clarke was confused at first, but then she rubbed her eyes lightly and her hand came away wet. She'd been crying. The boys were at a loss for what to do, there was no one else near enough to see Clarke practically breaking down, the rest of the ambassadors were still arriving and they were grouped near the well, not retreating to the shade as Clarke had immediately done.

Well, if Clarke's embarrassment wasn't complete before, it certainly was now. She had two children worried that she was going to fall to pieces and have their _Heda_ come storming up, demanding an explanation for what they'd done.

She looked at the one who had spoken to her – he couldn't have been more than eight years old, with dark, short cropped hair and delightfully green eyes – and she said, “ _Nou get yu daun_.”

_Don't worry._

“ _Ai gaf in moubeda rid op, strik em. Mochof.”_

_I just need some more sleep, little one. Thank you._

He straightened his back with a firm nod, reassured that she wasn't going to end his career with Lexa before it started, and resumed his stoic expression as he fanned her. They both took their task quite seriously, it was a direct order from the Commander after all... They seemed to want to impress her, no matter what she asked.

Clarke smiled, wiping away the last of her tears, and looked over at Lexa who was with Akseli. For all the arguments she had with her advisers, the clan leaders, and the ambassadors, it never affected the people's love for her. Lexa was their _Heda_ , beloved, admired, and worshiped. Clarke wondered if Lexa remembered that, especially during days like this when she was surrounded by opposition and tension at every turn.

Akseli was blustering as usual and Clarke could see Lexa growing more and more impatient by the second having to listen. Maybe it wasn't as obvious to everyone else, Lexa's face was an practiced mask of stone, but Clarke saw the way she was holding herself, the tension in her body, the way her hands flexed behind her back – all signs pointed to an increasingly exasperated Lexa, but she wouldn't let it show. Not today. She was not the Blood Commander today, but instead the Peace Making _Heda_.

It was odd seeing all the ambassadors in this grove. They were secluded and there were more than enough guards surrounding the area, but it was still strange to see them out in the open instead of the throne room or the war chambers as she was so accustomed.

It brought her back to her original grumblings, though now it was far less resentful and just pure curiosity. Why were they here? Why did Lexa bring them all the way up here? What did she want to do here that couldn't be done in the privacy and security of her palace?

Jarunn came to Lexa's rescue, inserting herself in between the Commander and Akseli, taking him aside to speak with others, freeing Lexa at last.

They hadn't spoken about Jarunn since the night Lexa told her what their history was. There was no need to. Clarke knew where she stood with Lexa. If there was one thing she did not worry about in this world right now, it was Lexa's loyalty. Any bitterness or jealousy she felt towards Jarunn no longer existed, not even a hint of it. She was firmly in Lexa's past, now a trusted ambassador, and that was all. Actually...it was better that way. Lexa deserved to have more people she trusted surrounding her.

Lexa approached her under the pergola and, out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw the boys stiffen nervously, still fanning her with the same fastidiousness as before. She smiled again, she couldn't help it. They weren't _afraid_ of Lexa, exactly, they were just in awe of her. Clarke felt an immense sense of pride and love for Lexa knowing that this is how she made her people feel. Safe. Awed. Devoted.

She definitely identified with those feelings.

“How are you faring?” Lexa asked, standing in front of her with her arms at her side.

“I'm fine,” Clarke said quickly, still mortified by how she'd complained the whole way up the mountain side... She didn't even know how to apologize for it yet. Every attempt she tried to formulate in her head seemed pitiful. “When do you want to start?”

“Soon,” Lexa replied, seating herself in the _Trikru_ chair next to her. “So, you wanted to know why we're here... _outdoors_...yes?”

Clarke tried to swallow the stone in her throat, guiltier than ever. “Lexa, I didn't--”

“Mara will be brought here shortly,” she said, cutting Clarke off. “I want her to present her situation to the ambassadors so that they understand my next decision fully.”

“Your next decision?”

Lexa looked around casually, or what appeared to be casual, to see who might be able to overhear them. There were only the two boys fanning Clarke within earshot, but that didn't mean they were safe. There were still eyes on them both from every side. Furtive, disapproving glances and whispers at seeing Clarke and Lexa sitting together alone like that.

Lexa didn't seem too bothered by what they thought, but she still feigned an air of diffidence around Clarke that she did not have in the slightest when they were alone. Clarke wasn't bothered by it and she maintained her own composure. The difference between them in public and them in private was just common sense and didn't need an explanation.

“Mara needs to prove herself,” Lexa said. “We have seen that the royal mark was replicated on an impostor before so that is no longer evidence. We need more.”

“Nia's dead. What more proof can she offer? Especially if she was hidden all this time?”

“She will fight.”

Clarke frowned, not liking the sound of that one bit. “What?”

“It is a test. _Azgeda_ royalty are raised to know many forms of combat and are expertly skilled with a variety of weapons. They have a very distinct style of fighting and are known for their prowess. I will have her prove this. If she fails, we will know the truth, that this is just another elaborate ploy or...”

“Or she will actually prove herself to you and the rest of the 12 clans that she is the heir to the Ice Nation throne,” Clarke finished for her with an understanding nod.

“My decision to work with her or execute her will be clearer after that.”

“You would still have her killed? Even if she is the Queen, even if she is telling the truth?”

Lexa was uncomfortable. “I have not decided yet. But, Clarke, even if everything she says is true...she still holds no power. It still means war. Just a different kind.”

“It could be a much easier battle.”

“Yes, and then five years from now _Azgeda_ marches on _Polis_ again, stronger than ever with their Queen and young Prince, determined to unseat me just as her mother did. Some things will never change, Clarke. She needs me to get her son back, and if she is Mara, then she will do whatever it takes, but what happens after that? When our needs no longer align? I do not know her. I do not know how to anticipate her moves. She is a stranger.”

Clarke sighed at that, knowing that Lexa had a point.

“Who's going to fight her?" Then her heart skipped a beat as a most alarming thought occurred to her. " _Not you_...”

“That is beneath me, Clarke,” she answered easily with dismissive wave. “There will be several of my warriors to carry out the test.”

“Okay,” she sighed, relieved. “Just...promise me something?”

Lexa looked at her curiously.

“Promise me that this whole 'test' to see what kind of warrior she is and prove her identity, isn't just a way for you to scope out her skills and see if you can challenge her to a duel for the kingdom or something equally ridiculous.”

Lexa's brow furrowed deeply, perplexed. “What would a _soulou gonplei_ solve? That hardly applies to the matter at hand.”

“Good,” Clarke said, satisfied, “because there's no chance in hell I would sit by and watch that happen _again_.”

Lexa's eyes softened in understanding and she offered Clarke a tiny smile before slipping back into the expressionless Commander mask. Lexa's trial didn't happen that long ago and the memory was still fresh and painful in both their minds.

“I will try to make sure that does not happen _again_ , Clarke.”

“You better.”

Lexa side eyed her, but Clarke just held her chin high, pretending like she didn't notice.

There was some stirring and louder voices from the ambassadors. Lexa rose from her chair as they all gradually made their way over to the pergola and found their seats. Drums sounded from a distance, announcing the arrival, and grew closer quickly.

Lexa stood under the sun with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting patiently.

Mara was escorted into the clearing by several guards. She wore the same clothes she did yesterday, but her hair was neater this time, and she was not bound at the wrists. She walked freely, but the guards stayed glued to her side.

She stopped a few feet away from Lexa and bowed from the waist respectfully. The drums stopped.

“It is a beautiful day, Commander. I thank you for allowing me to see some of the capital's grandest views as I have never been here before.”

“You are here to prove your true identity before myself and the representatives of the 12 clans,” Lexa said imperiously.

“How might I do that beyond what I have already said and shown?”

“Begin with your story.”

 


	36. Decisions

Mara kept her hands clasped in front of her, one holding her wrist firmly. Lexa had seated herself along with the rest of the ambassadors. Clarke was still at her side, the boys continuing to fan her, but she wasn't thinking about her sunburn. Mara was the only thing anyone cared about right now. She had their full attention as she stood there, the guards had dropped back slightly, but still flanked her.

She was not afraid.

The ambassadors and Lexa were shaded under the thicket overhead and the pergola, but Mara was standing outside of that protection, the sun lighting her pale skin, making it even more obvious which clan she heralded from. Her red hair had turned strawberry gold under such light, the frizziness more obvious with every little fly away glowing like straw.

“Queen Nia had a great many plans, as many of you know, perhaps some of you do not. She had plans for her rule, for the Commander, for our people, and for me. Her life was ended before most of those plans could be carried to fruition. And I am thankful for that.”

She met Lexa's eyes with a nod.

“Right now, my people believe I rule from the shadows, using our _Azgeda_ Elders to speak for me. They do not know what was done to me, who I am, or what has transpired. My mother, _the Queen_ , needed me to be someone our people would follow unquestioningly, even if they never saw me themselves. She created a grand illusion and it is working.”

“Wait, I don't understand. Why did Nia hide you all this time?” Clarke asked, glancing to Lexa quickly to make sure she wasn't overstepping. Lexa was still watching Mara, unfazed by Clarke's interruption, so she took that as a sign to go ahead. “What did you do to make her hate you so much that she would go to such lengths to keep you from becoming Queen?”

Mara tilted her head back with a bitter smile. “My mother sent me away after I was born. She had no use for me at the time. I lived with my father's family though he was killed in battle. They were rare people in our harsh world – they showed me love and kindness.”

She sighed.

“We lived in near isolation, seldom seen by other people outside of the family. But I was shown the good in this world. The wonder that is _peace_. When it was time for me to return to my mother's side, they tried to resist, they did not want her to take me.”

She looked around, making pointed eye contact with every ambassador she could.

“My mother killed them all and reclaimed me. But she was too late. I was not the child she wanted, I never would be. She saw that soon enough when I began training at her side.”

“Your skills fell short of her expectations?” Lexa asked.

Lexa's words were flat, there was no taunting or edge to them, just a matter-of-fact tone. But Clarke knew better. Lexa was looking for something.

Mara narrowed her eyes at her. For the first time since walking into the throne room last night – all she had shown until now was coyness and solemnity – she allowed a flash of anger appear.

“Do not mistake me, Commander,” she said coldly. “It is not my abilities as a _warrior_ that she showed distaste for, it was the lack of blood-lust behind them.”

Lexa sat back in her chair with a thoughtful expression. She'd gotten what she wanted.

“I did not share her insatiable appetite for power and violence,” Mara continued. “All her training, all her teachings, they failed with me. I was shown a better world in the isolation of my childhood. I made promises to my true family to never become what she is and they died trying to keep me from her grasp. I will not fail them.”

“But she hid you still? Your whole life?” Clarke pressed, looking for the answers.

Mara swallowed harshly. “She _imprisoned_ me. Tortured me. Attempted every form of manipulation possible to make me change. To become what she wanted the next _Azgeda_ Queen to be. A brutal, cunning, merciless monster to take control over not just _Azgeda_ , but _all_ of the clans. This was her goal.”

Lexa shifted and clenched her jaw. That was enough to show how she still felt about Nia's unending mission to dethrone her.

Mara finally released her linked hands and gestured to Lexa knowingly. “However, when you defeated her and she was forced to kneel before you on the battlefield, joining the Coalition, she realized that she was running out of time. She'd had years to break me, to mold me into her image, but it still had not happned. I continued to resist her and your power, _Heda_ , grew with every day.”

Mara took a few steps away from Lexa and the ambassadors, but made sure that she never turned her back fully on them.

“I was a lost cause and Queen Nia needed another heir, but I am her only child. She was unable to have another. So a new plan formed. I bore a child at her behest, one unspoiled and easy to shape. She would not make the same mistake with her grand-child as she did with me. The day my son was born, they ripped him out of me, and immediately whisked him away to be cared for by a select few of my mother's inner circle. He will be raised in secrecy, inundated with the most savage and insidious of the old ways, trained to be one of the greatest warriors, and when he is of age, he will step forward as King.”

Lexa watched her with dark eyes. She was absorbing all of this in silence, but some of the ambassadors were still unconvinced.

Uzac spoke out this time. “Why should we believe you?” he asked harshly. “How do we know you're not just another impostor sent to throw us off while the real Queen plots to attack when we let our guard down?”

“Commander, please end this!” Askeli said impatiently. “She can weave all the tales she likes, but it means nothing without proof. If she is just a storyteller, she's a poor one at that.”

Jarunn held her hand out to Akseli, urging him to be silent before Lexa had to silence him. “While it is true,” she said, looking at Mara, “that we are inclined to believe your story, that we _do_ wish for you to be the Queen so that it will mean a different outcome for our...conflict with _Azgeda_...it is still just a story.” She shrugged helplessly. “Your royal mark has been branded on several impostors. We have no tangible evidence that you are who you say you are. Isn't there anything else you can offer?”

Mara looked at Jarunn for a long moment before turning back to Lexa. She seemed to be internally debating something and a tense silence filled the air as everyone waited for what she would do next. Finally, her jawline tightened, she made her decision. Mara reached up, ripping open her jacket. She flung it to the ground in front of Lexa and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it on top of the jacket. She stood before all twelve ambassadors, the guards, and Lexa, naked from the waist up.

Murmurs rose high and alarmed from the ambassadors. Clarke covered her mouth, Lexa inhaled sharply, Jarunn turned away, Akseli was uncharacteristically silent, Uzac looked at the ground, and even Indra, who was standing on the edge of the pergola, seemed thrown.

There wasn't a single, tiny spot on Mara's skin that wasn't covered with scar tissue and burns. Her breasts had been cut off, with giant, ugly, jagged scars in their place. There was not a single smooth piece of healthy skin to be found. From the neck up, she was untouched, but she turned for them, putting herself on unabashed display, and let them see how her back, her torso, her chest, her arms, _everything_...was devastatingly and sickeningly brutalized.

“You,” Mara said hollowly, gazing at Jarunn, “said last night that I had no _Azgeda_ scars.” She met Jarunn's wide eyes with cold ones. “You were not looking closely enough.”

“Your _mother_ did this to you?” Clarke managed to choke out, horrified.

“Queen Nia of the Ice Nation never took no for an answer.” Mara fixed her gaze on Lexa again, almost challengingly. “You know that well, Commander. Help me find my son, take out the _Azgeda_ Elders so that I will assume the throne.”

If Mara's appearance affected Lexa, she was not letting it show one bit other than her initial, short little intake of air that Clarke was sure only she, and perhaps the guard standing closest to Lexa, heard.

“ _Yu gaf in chilnes, Heda.”_

_You desire peace, Commander._

“You want more for our people than the life we offer them now. Queen Nia hated you for it, many of my people despise you, but the stories they told...whispered in dark corners with bitterness and rage...they meant something different to me. You were not an interloper, a child emperor, weak and toothless. I knew that you were so much more than anything our people have ever seen. I believe that still. That is why I stand here today, open to your will, because I believe in the Commander that my people so mistakenly abhor. I believe in a better way and a better life for all our people. I cannot do it without you."

She took a deep breath.

“Help me find my son, _Heda_. Together, all of us,” she looked around at the ambassadors, “we can change our world for the better. No more violence. No more war. Is that not the true goal you seek with this Coalition?”

Silence fell heavily upon them. The ambassadors didn't dare speak. Most of them were too shell shocked to speak, really. And all of them were waiting for Lexa's response.

“Dress yourself,” Lexa said quietly, firmly, but not unkindly.

Mara nodded and collected her clothes. She was putting her shirt back on when Lexa continued.

“You have given me much to think about. But, unfortunately, as the others have pointed out, the question of your identity still remains. Your story is a moving one, but it alone is not enough.”

Lexa wasn't going to let this revelation of Mara's brutal torture deter her from the plan she set out with today. It was a shocking, gruesome thing to see, but it still didn't mean she was the Queen. Even if Lexa did fully believe her by now, she still needed something more tangible for evidence. Mara's tale of endurance was heartrending and desolate, but Lexa could not accept something as crucial as this on emotion alone.

She gestured for one of the guards to step forward. He offered Mara a long, thin sword, which she accepted with some apprehension. Mara looked to Lexa warily and then swiveled her head around to gauge her surroundings, trying to figure out what was coming next.

“A demonstration of your skill will help lend credence to your claim. You have already professed to be a more than worthy opponent so I do not think this should be much of a task for you.”

Mara's eyes grew hard and her brow was drawn deeply. Clarke could see her wrestling with it. Mara wanted to know if this was a trick. Was Lexa really just asking for a demonstration or was this the way she intended to have her executed?

Lexa waited for one of her warriors to step out with his own sword drawn. When he did, the guards left Mara's side and took up a new post on either side of Lexa. Mara was free with a weapon in her hand, they had to prepared for anything.

Lexa raised her hand before letting it fall forward as she said, “ _Stot au_.”

_Begin._

The warrior charged at Mara and the ring of steel on steel echoed through the grove.

* * *

Later, after the ambassadors were dismissed, along with the warriors who participated in Mara's test, only Clarke, Lexa, Indra, and Mara remained with a handful of sentries still off in the woods, surrounding them.

Mara passed the test with flying colors. Clarke was stunned by her strength, her speed, and her sheer skill. They handed her weapon after weapon after weapon and she defeated each opponent with frightening ease. Clarke was immensely grateful that Lexa had promised not to get into a _soulou gonplei_ with Mara because while Lexa was an extraordinarily skilled fighter, Mara was a formidable opponent, so much so that she never wanted to see them face each other like that. It would be much too close of a fight.

Mara was sweating from exertion, as well as the heat, breathing hard as she was still coming off her last opponent. Lexa had one of Clarke's boys, the fair haired one, bring Mara water from the well.

Lexa approached her freely, hands held loosely behind her back, but Indra stayed close, her hand ever still on the hilt of her sword. Waiting. Coiled and poised for an attack. Clarke pulled her hood back over her head and stepped out from under the shade of the pergola as well to join them.

It was Lexa's turn now. There was nothing left but a choice to make and only the Commander could make it. She could believe Mara and work with her. Or she could kill her and go to war the Ice Nation. A war that not only meant a great many of her people dead, but also that if she were not completely successful, she risked a bitter and vengeful king rising fifteen years from now to take vengeance and embroil their world in yet _another_ war – a time far off enough where it was likely that Lexa would likely not even live long enough to be present for it. Then she will have left the next Commander and future generations of her people with the exactly same fate as the past.

“You played your hand well, Mara,” Lexa said coolly as the woman gulped down the water offered and beckoned for the boy to retrieve more. He looked to Indra who reluctantly nodded and ran to refill the jar.

“You come to me and proclaim a desire for peace before an entire chamber of my people. You beseech me for help. If I refuse and declare war on _Azgeda_ , I appear obstinate and against reason. You have passed every test I could offer. You have convinced the 12 clans that you are the rightful Queen of _Azgeda_.”

Lexa took a deep breath, settling herself, and she tilted her head, seemingly innocuous. The boy returned and Mara accepted the water, but she took shorter sips this time. Her eyes never left Lexa.

“You risked your life in coming here, but that is because it is all you have to offer me. _Your life_. You have no power so I have no Queen. And yet you want me to help you retrieve your son and reinstate you to the throne? Why would I go through all that trouble when I could simply end _Azgeda_ royalty altogether? I have the numbers and new technology to bring _Azgeda_ to its knees. I don't need a Queen. They will answer to the Commander and no one else.”

Mara stared down at her with her mouth in a hard, thin line. “Because you do not wish to rule _Azgeda,”_ she said, handing the jug back to the boy who was waiting on the sidelines. He took it and disappeared quickly.

“You dare to tell me what I do and do not desire?” Lexa replied coldly, stepping closer. “You know my thoughts better than myself?”

Mara immediately shook her head in apology, knowing she had misstepped. “Commander, I ask for my son. In return, you will have my loyalty, my life, my son's life, and every generation of _Azgeda_ royalty will be made to swear allegiance to _Heda kom Jus_. I will make it so. This is a chance to avoid a war, to stop bloodshed, and let people live in peace. The old regime must change and you have already begun - let me help you finish it.”

“If your son is returned to you, I have no guarantee of this lasting loyalty you promise.”

“No, you do not,” Mara admitted honestly. “But you have a choice between trusting me and planning a single, targeted attack or you can wage a full scale war against an entire nation. A war that which will fill rivers with the blood of both our people.”

Mara folded her hands in front of her once more.

“What do you choose, Commander?”

* * *

Clarke peeled off sweat drenched clothes that clung uncomfortably to her abused body, each wet tug feeling like another layer of her skin was being ripped off. She donned a clean, silk robe and went into the bathing chamber of Lexa's suite. The attendants had drawn her a cool bath, anticipating the need for it after such a sweltering day. When Clarke went into the room, the most beautiful, overwhelming fragrance hit her. She breathed it in deeply, surprised by how calming it was.

“What _is_ that?”

“From the healer,” Heykin, Lexa's First attendant answered as she arranged towels next to the porcelain tub. “Pliya. She advised using the oil of _bluma lami_ to help with _Wanheda's_ discomfort. I hope that is alright?”

“ _Lavender...”_ Clarke remarked in wonder.

“You know the flower?”

Clarke shrugged. “My Earth Skills class is paying off tonight.”

“I don't...”

She remembered who she was talking to and immediately apologized to the confused girl.

“Sorry.” Clarke smiled. “I haven't actually smelled the real thing until now. It's...it's lovely.”

“It contains many useful healing properties,” Heykin offered. “It should help, even though you look much improved already.”

“Yeah, I didn't think it would get better this quickly either. Thank you, Heykin.”

The girl nodded and took Clarke's words as a dismissal, leaving her alone with the bath. Clarke removed her robe and eased herself into the cool water. A loud moan escaped her as the cool water soothed her still burning skin. It cleansed her of the sweat and grime from the long hot day – she could feel it all slipping away as she submerged herself in the water, feeling more relaxed and at peace than she had in the last 24 hours. She rested against the back of the porcelain tub gently and laid her head back, trying to get as comfortable as she could.

The door opened again, but Clarke kept her eyes closed. She didn't need to see her to know she was there.

“ _Bluma lami_. One of my favorites.”

“Definitely one of my favorites now too,” she replied. “It was Pliya's idea.”

“Are you warming up to her now after your tantrum this morning?”

Clarke's eyes flew open and she turned her head to look at Lexa.

“She slapped me!”

“She tapped you on the thigh, Clarke. You are exaggerating.”

“She slapped a sunburned patient on one of the worst burned spots. My reaction was entirely warranted.”

“She was simply examining the severity of your burns.”

“ _Slapping_ is not an acceptable form of examination.”

“In your world, perhaps, but not in ours.”

Clarke pursed her lips, but wisely chose not to respond. Lexa was right. While the _Skaikru_ had a great deal more of modern medical technology, it certainly didn't invalidate the knowledge that the Grounder healers had in using less technologically advanced, but certainly time honored, and proven advantageous methods cultivated from the Earth itself rather than in a test tube.

She still didn't think it was necessary for the woman to smack her tender, sunburned thigh just to see how Clarke would respond!

“You going to take that off yet? Or are you just going to wear it all night to prove your point?”

Clarke had lamented throughout the day how hot it was, but Lexa, fully dressed from head to toe in her heavy, formal, Commander clothes, insisted that Clarke was simply unused to such weather on the ground. She insisted she wasn't bothered at all by the heat and that it was nothing. Of course, as she said it, the back of her neck was glistening with sweat and Clarke could see the wet stains on Lexa's clothes when she was up close. Another good reason to wear all black, it hardly shows anything – sweat or blood.

“Is that your subtle way of asking me to join you?” Lexa raised her eyebrow.

Clarke grinned lazily. “ _Commander_ , I didn't think I had to ask...”

She swore she saw Lexa blush, but Lexa turned away too quickly for her to really know for sure. She started removing her clothes at once and when she got to the very visibly sweat stained underclothes, she had to peel them off her body just as Clarke had to do herself earlier.

“No, no, you're right. It was actually pretty chilly out today,” Clarke said wryly, shaking her head in amusement.

Lexa tossed her a dirty look before stepping into the tub and lowered herself in slowly. She closed her eyes and hissed in relief as the cool water covered her. She ducked underneath for a moment, soaking her hair, and came back up with a sigh and wiped her face.

“Admit it, Lexa.”

She opened her eyes, studying Clarke for a moment, before finally lowering her head in defeat. “It _was_ warm today, yes.”

Clarke smiled and chuckled gleefully to herself. It amused her to no end that she got Lexa to cave and admit that, while necessary, having them be outside today was not the easiest thing to do.

“You are healing quickly,” she remarked, looking Clarke over. “It's not as red as it was last night or even this afternoon.”

Clarke raised her arm out of the water, inspecting the color there before looking down at her chest, stomach, and legs and nodded approvingly. “Much better. Way more pink than red now. Still tender though.”

“Oh.”

Clarke looked at Lexa, confused by that tiny little utterance. Lexa seemed... _disappointed_. The reason hit her and Clarke couldn't help but smile, her heart fluttering to see Lexa react that way to not being able to touch her.

Clarke leaned forward and put her hands on Lexa's bare calves and pulled her towards her.

“I said it's ' _much better_ '.”

The arch of her eyebrows and the seductive curl of her mouth had Lexa grinning in return. She went eagerly into Clarke's arms and turned around, resting gently against Clarke's front while Clarke opened her legs wide enough for Lexa to settle between them.

“I think today was a success,” Clarke said. “Well...as much of a success as it could be, I suppose.”

Lexa was not as quick to agree. “A decision was made. We have a plan of action now, at least. Or...we will have a more concrete one soon.”

“You don't want to talk about it anymore tonight, do you?” she said knowingly.

Lexa looked over her shoulder at Clarke with a sad sort of smile. “Not really. Would that be alright?”

Clarke kissed her cheek and then trailed those kisses down her neck until she reached the junction of her shoulder. There she stopped and leaned her head against Lexa's.

“Want to talk about what a buttface Akseli was being?”

Lexa's laughter was lighthearted and pure as it rang throughout the chambers.

“Or...” Clarke said softly, when Lexa's laugh faded, “we could just sit here and not talk at all?”

Lexa sighed and rested her head against Clarke heavily... _gratefully_.

“I'd like that.”

“Lexa?”

“Mm?”

“You were incredible today.”

Lexa didn't respond.

“I'm proud of you."

Lexa breathed in deeply, still silent.

"And the fact that you're - that you're _with_...” she stumbled over the words before taking a deep breath and willing them to come out the way she needed them to. “I'm grateful to be able to know someone like you and to...” she trailed off, unable to finish that. Not that word.

Not just yet anyway.

“Guess I got lucky,” she murmured, resting her chin on Lexa's bare shoulder.

“It is not luck, Clarke,” she replied quietly. “It is fate.”

“You believe we were fated?”

“As are all things.”

“I don't believe in fate or other things like that.”

“Then I will believe in them for you.”

Clarke reached out to where Lexa had draped her arm over the edge of the tub and entwined their wet fingers.

“Sounds good to me.”

They stayed like that for a while, peaceful and silent. Lexa fell asleep, but Clarke nudged her into waking and they helped each other wash up. Lexa had to take the utmost care in sliding the soap over Clarke's tender skin, but she was freer when she scrubbed into Clarke's scalp, washing her hair. The noises Clarke made with Lexa's hands in her hair were practically obscene and Lexa loved it every second of it.

They toweled off and Clarke put her robe back on before heading back into Lexa's room. Dinner was waiting for them in Lexa's sitting area and they didn't bother to dress before digging in. Lexa ate lazily as she laid on the couch, her towel but a scrap of material covering next to nothing while Clarke was more careful with her robe tied around her and sat up in the armchair.

It was a comfortable and restorative silence that settled over them. Just being near each other like this, without having to worry about anyone else seeing them, getting to be their true selves at ease, it was more intimate and connective than anything words could have done.

The remaining heat from the day had burned off as night settled in, bringing a crisp cool breeze into the room that was a balm to Clarke's scorched skin.

Pliya had stopped by the suite to bring Clarke more salve and she marveled at how much better Clarke looked than the night before – it was both an honest fascination and a bit alarming for her because she'd never seen such healing before.

The salve had helped tremendously though and she was feeling much better than the night before. The redness fading so quickly did have Clarke wondering if it had something to do with her body filtering out radiation damage, replacing the damaged cells at a more accelerated rate than the average grounder.

Clarke thanked her for the salve, promised that it was really all her good work, and went straight to Lexa. She didn't say a word, just handed her the jars, took off her robe, and laid over the furs on the bed.

“Are you sure you need this tonight, Clarke?” Lexa chuckled at her eagerness. “You seem to be feeling much better.”

“I'm still red and sore.”

“Pink now.”

“Pink is still not the color I should be.”

“That is true,” Lexa conceded, unable to stop smiling.

She went to the bed, kneeling over Clarke who was looking up at her with bright, mischievous looking blue eyes and a knowing uptick in the corner of her mouth.

Licking her lips, she swiped a generous amount of the ointment out of the jar and spread it over Clarke's chest, just as she did the night before. Clarke hissed quietly at the cool, slick feeling against her skin. But before Lexa could do anything else, Clarke seized her waist and pulled her on top of her, so that she was straddling Clarke instead.

“You have a better angle that way,” she said innocently.

Lexa's smile grew wider.

With her hands back on Clarke's skin, Lexa moved down, coating her breasts thoroughly. She took her time, more time than necessary to just make sure she was covered with the salve. Her fingers circle the hardened pebbles, squeezing lightly when she heard a contented murmur of approval from Clarke.

Clarke stopped her again, this time sitting up and pulled at the ties of Lexa's silk robe. She pushed the gown open and off her shoulders so Lexa was bare to her as well and laid back down cheekily.

“You wouldn't want to get anything on it, right? It would be difficult to clean.”

Clarke's teasing smirk was more than Lexa could stand. She ducked down and met Clarke's lips with more force than Clarke was expecting. She whimpered slightly into Lexa's mouth, but returned the kiss just as passionately. Lexa's hands were still slick with the salve as she slid her hands down Clarke's sides and over her hips. Their breasts slid against each other with glorious friction now that Lexa was covered in the same thing Clarke was.

Lexa broke from kissing her, breathing hard, her mouth still on the corner of Clarke's lips, long enough to gasp out, “Are you sure you're--?”

Clarke answered her in mid-sentence by flipping them over and captured Lexa's lips again, grinding down hard on Lexa's thigh. The slick wetness on Lexa's skin there was not from the salve.

“I'll be gentle,” Lexa reassured her, running her hands down Clarke's back.

Clarke met her gaze with dark desire, so utterly filled with need, that Lexa's heartbeat sped up at the mere sight of it. Heat flooded her body, throbbing between her legs.

“ _I won't._ ”

* * *

It was quiet and dark save for the omnipresent flicker of candlelight. Clarke was falling fast asleep, content and satiated with the ghost of an unwitting smile still on her swollen lips.

Lexa brushed the hair away from Clarke's face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Clarke...” she whispered.

“Hm?”

“You said you were proud of me today.”

“I am,” she replied sleepily, yawning.

“But it is because we were in agreement.”

Clarke frowned at that and opened her eyes to find Lexa gazing at her anxiously, worriedly. There was no trace of sleep there for her yet.

“So?”

“We will not always agree.”

“Of course not, but that doesn't mean that--”

“It's not the same for us as it is for other people, Clarke. Other people have the luxury of being able to be at odds, to argue, to have different opinions about what is right, but for us...we do not have that same privilege.”

Clarke turned onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “Lexa...”

But Lexa wasn't finished yet. “We lead our people, Clarke. What happens when one day, our people's needs diverge? What if what I find necessary, you do not? What if I make a choice that you cannot abide by? That you cannot forgive?”

“It won't come to that.”

“It could. It might." She paused, swallowing painfully, before whispering hoarsely, "It did once before."

"That was _before_ ," Clarke said sternly. "Our entire situation is different now. And we just won't _let_ it get that far, Lexa,” she reassured her and reached underneath the covers to curl her arm around Lexa's waist and pull her closer.

“You don't know--”

“ _You_ don't know,” Clarke cut her off quickly.

“If it ever comes to such a choice, Clarke, you know that I must...” Lexa couldn't finish it. Her eyes were soft and pleading, filled with unshed tears. Clearly, she had been thinking about this for some time.

Clarke leaned forward, resting her forehead against Lexa's. She traced an invisible line with her fingertips from the spot just under Lexa's ear, down her neck, and across her shoulder. Telling Lexa that it would never happen, when Clarke knew full well that it could, was not going to cut it tonight. Lexa was right and there was nothing Clarke could do about that. But it was just a possibility, not an eventuality. It didn't have to be.

Yet, Lexa still needed something more. She needed to know that Clarke was aware of all that could pull them apart, all that threatened their happiness, everything that could steal away the solace they found in each other, and make nights like tonight, the last ones they would ever have together. Clarke knew. Of course she knew. Lexa needed to hear it though.

“I understand,” she said softly.

“If I lose you--”

“Shh,” Clarke murmured, kissing her softly. “Nothing has happened, Lexa, and maybe it never will. But I promise you one thing: we _will_ find a way. We can't not.”

Lexa was silent, her eyes lowered and hidden from Clarke.

“You said everything was fated right? That _we_ were fated? Trust in that.”

“Fate rarely leads to a happy ending, Clarke.”

“I guess you're going to have to believe in me then.”

Lexa finally met her eyes and this time there was a small hint of a smile on her lips. “We'll have to believe in each other,” she said.

Clarke smiled and kissed her again sweetly. “I can do that.”

Lexa sighed against her lips, eyes falling shut, and snuggled closer.

“Will you sleep now?” Clarke asked.

Lexa just hummed under her breath.

Taking that as a yes, Clarke turned over, bringing Lexa's arm with her around her waist, and pulled her to her so that Lexa was flush against her from behind. Lexa nuzzled into her hair and kissed the back of neck, tightening her embrace, and slipped her leg between Clarke's.

“You're so warm,” she mumbled.

“Still sunburned.”

“Oh. Right.”

 


	37. Sonop

Clarke woke before Lexa. It was a rare occurrence to see the Commander so soundly asleep. Lexa was, more often than not, up and dressed for the day by the time Clarke opened her eyes. Most mornings, Lexa had already left to start her day. The demands of _Heda_ were vast and Lexa never really seemed to stop. Not unless Clarke urged her to.

Lexa was on her back, her head turned towards Clarke, peaceful and soft in slumber. One hand rested on her stomach, but the other was stretched out towards Clarke. It tugged at something deep inside her, almost painfully so, but it was _good_. The best kind of pain she could ask for.

Lexa was beautiful. Her dark hair spanned out in curls, the braids had been removed by her attendants last night before their bath. Her breaths came in quiet, even little puffs that soothed something inside of Clarke that she didn't even really understand.

Clarke knew she should let Lexa sleep, but she couldn't resist. Lexa's pull was too strong and she wanted her so much. In her defense, she did _try_ to be careful as she cuddled closer to Lexa's warmth, sidling her body against hers. It was pointless though, Lexa was a light sleeper. She always woke at any touch from Clarke. Most times she just fell back asleep, but this time Lexa barely even cracked her eyes before she groaned sleepily and and turned her whole body into Clarke, finding her lips at once.

“You should go back to sleep,” Clarke whispered, but Lexa kissed her again, ending any hope of that.

Not that Clarke was _actually_ hoping for it.

It was lazy and slow. Lexa was still half asleep, perhaps she was even still dreaming, and Clarke had just gotten sucked into it. Smiling against Lexa's lips, Clarke raised her hand to Lexa's neck, pulling her closer, deeper. She could feel the stages of Lexa moving into full consciousness as her kisses grew more passionate, determined, searching. Lexa slid her hands up Clarke's naked back and pulled her close.

But then she stopped.

Clarke blinked her eyes open, frustrated by the sudden change. They were in the _middle_ of something.

Lexa was still holding her, but she had this odd little curious look on her face.

“What is it?” Clarke asked, trying hard to make sure she didn't sound like she was whining.

Because that's exactly what she felt like doing.

Lexa shook her head slightly, brow furrowed, and Clarke didn't know what to make of her behavior until she saw what was in Lexa's hand.

She was holding up a piece of skin that had peeled off Clarke's back.

“You are shedding, Clarke,” Lexa said in amusement.

Clarke stared at it in abject _horror_.

Lexa didn't seem to notice. She tossed it away and leaned in to kiss her again, not fazed in the slightest, but Clarke scrambled away in a panic.

She shoved the blankets down to see the rest of her body and she was aghast to see that she was peeling _everywhere_. Everywhere that she'd been burned – which was the entirety of her body – had healed, but a new layer of skin had formed underneath and all the dead skin was sloughing off.

Utterly, utterly, mortified, and disgusted, and a million other things that she had no words for, Clarke yelped, and jumped out of the bed so quickly she nearly fell flat on her face.

Lexa called after her to no avail. Clarke couldn't bear to face her. She wildly grabbed for her robe, flinging it around her just in time as she threw the door open with a crash and fled the room. Lexa watched her disappear and heard Clarke shouting for Heykin at the top of her lungs.

In a stupor, Lexa laid there, propped up on her elbow, staring at the empty doorway for a long moment before she finally fell back onto the bed with a dejected sigh.

* * *

Clarke returned about a half hour later, freshly scrubbed raw. Her now healed skin looked redder than it did this morning, not sunburned anymore, but certainly aggravated.

Lexa was having breakfast in her dressing gown and she looked up when Clarke came in.

“What did you to yourself?”

“I had them help me get it all off,” she said miserably, still avoiding direct eye contact as she sat down on the couch next to Lexa. “I can't believe I looked like that. It was _disgusting_.”

“It's just skin, Clarke,” Lexa said tersely, focusing on her breakfast. “I don't know why you felt the need to make such an ordeal of it.”

“It was embarrassing,” Clarke muttered. “I don't want you to...see me like _that_.”

“Like what?”

Clarke held her hands up in exasperation.

How was Lexa not getting this?

“Looking gross?"

“You looked nothing of the kind. Besides, I didn't take you for the vain type, Clarke.”

Clarke huffed, staring at the side of Lexa's head as she took slow, small bites of her food, chewing methodically.

“Why are _you_ upset?” she asked in disbelief. “I was the one who looked like a mutant creature looking for a new body.”

Lexa just shook her head. She still didn't look at Clarke. Her standoffishness was bewildering and a part of Clarke - a small, tiny part that she never wanted to admit - wondered if maybe she was right. Maybe it _was_ as bad as she was making it out to be. Maybe Lexa had truly been put off.

Her head told her that it was silly to think that Lexa wouldn't find her attractive after seeing her like that, but...

She didn't think Lexa would be like that though, it had to just be in her head, but the way Lexa was being so distant...unwilling to really look at her...it made her wonder if her reaction wasn't as outlandish as Lexa made it out to be.

“Lexa?”

“It's fine, Clarke. I'm not upset. I'm glad you feel better now. Hungry?”

“No,” she said stubbornly. “Tell me what it is.”

_Just don't let it be what I'm thinking._

Lexa sighed. “It's...it's childish.”

“I'm childish?”

“No, what I'm feeling is,” she groaned.

Clarke inhaled sharply. Steeling herself for an admission.

“It's just...we so rarely get to have the morning together. I always have to wake up early and I leave before you wake. This was _one_ morning that I had a chance to be able to spend it with you, to wake up next to you and not have to be anywhere...” she trailed off with a small wave of her hand.

_Oh._

And just like that, Clarke's knotted stomach released itself. Relief flooded her body and she slumped against the back of the couch.

Lexa wasn't _rejecting_ her.

Lexa was _disappointed_.

“You wanted a normal morning and I ran out of the room screaming,” Clarke said with an understanding nod.

“Clarke,” she sighed, looking over her shoulder at her, “you must know that there is nothing in the world that could make me not want you?”

_Well, now she did._

“That sounds like a challenge,” Clarke joked, but Lexa didn't even crack a smile, and she sobered. “I'm sorry. I am. I just...I was thrown by that happening. I knew, from a medical perspective, that there was nothing wrong with me. I should have been expecting it, but I've never seen anything like that happen to me before. It freaked me out and I...” she exhaled heavily, “I shouldn't have ruined our morning.”

“You didn't ruin it.”

“Kind of did, though.”

“Just eat your breakfast.”

Clarke studied her for a long moment, debating something, before she finally made her decision. She stood and held out her hand to Lexa.

“What is it?” Lexa asked, already taking her hand and getting to her feet.

“Come on,” Clarke said, leading her back to bed.

Lexa was skeptical.

“It's late, Clarke. I don't have much more time before--”

“Lie down.”

“Clarke--”

Clarke hopped back into the bed, pushing back the covers, and reached for Lexa. She pushed Lexa's dressing gown off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet on the floor next to bed, leaving Lexa completely bare. She pulled Lexa into the bed with her and pushed her down so that she would lay back on the pillows. Clarke removed her own robe, tossing it to the side. Lexa breathed in a little sharply at the sight of it, but she shook her head dolefully.

"Clarke, as much as I wa--" Lexa started, but Clarke shushed her and laid down as well.

She pulled the covers over them both and then snuggled into Lexa's side, resting her head on Lexa's shoulder.

“What is this?” Lexa asked, confused.

“A do-over.”

“It doesn't work like that.”

“Shut up and close your eyes.”

“I'm fully awake, Clarke. I don't want to go back to sleep," she said impatiently.

Clarke raised herself up on her elbow to look Lexa dead in the eye. “Do it for me, okay? _Play along_.”

Lexa pursed her lips, but begrudgingly agreed.

Clarke settled back down on her shoulder and Lexa closed her eyes.

About thirty seconds passed with them like that in silence before Lexa broke it. “Clarke, I _really_ don't have time for this.”

“Yes, you do. I told Heykin to inform the youngbloods that you'd be meeting them later today.”

“You...you _what_?”

“Just _trust_ me. Close your eyes. No more talking.”

Lexa did as she asked. At first, her mind raced with all the things she should be doing right now, anything other than a morning nap. The fact that Clarke actually interfered with her responsibilities as _Heda,_ how unsettled she was by it, but also how it didn't necessarily feel as _wrong_ as it should have...

Then her mind began to slow, thinking about how quiet it was, how calm, the faint footsteps of the sentries in the halls, the low murmur of the attendants outside the room, the soft morning chatter of _Polis_ filtering through the window, how wonderful Clarke felt pressed against her, how good she smelled, how she loved the weight of her on her shoulder and plied against her side.

Even those thoughts began to fade and her breathing grew more even, being with Clarke in this peaceful silence had her growing drowsy even though she really had been wide awake before.

She wasn't exactly falling asleep yet, but she was starting to drift somewhere in between.

Then Clarke shifted against her, sliding her hand across the planes of Lexa's stomach. She lifted her head and kissed the shoulder that had been serving as her pillow. Lexa still didn't open her eyes. This was Clarke's game. She wanted to see what she had planned next.

She felt the cool air hit her as Clarke lifted the sheets for a moment and then she wasn't quite sure what was happening next because there was definite movement on Clarke's part, but she couldn't feel her anymore. She was so tempted to open her eyes, but then Clarke was there again. She had moved much further south and slipped between Lexa's legs now.

Lexa gasped softly, not expecting that in the least, and let a small whimper escape when she felt Clarke's breath there. There were some soft, barely grazing kisses to the inside of her thighs before her tongue met Lexa with one long, broad stroke. Lexa arched her back with a moan and covered her eyes, giving herself over to Clarke completely.

Clarke was merciless. Lexa came quickly, but it was far too quick for Clarke's liking.

She crawled back up and kissed Lexa deeply, barely giving her a chance to recover before she was inside of her, ready to send her reeling towards another. Lexa moaned into her mouth - she could taste herself there. Clarke wasn't stopping for anything. Lexa could only whimper and thrust her hips helplessly against Clarke as she was rapidly building towards another. Her body quaked and coiled underneath Clarke's ministrations.

It was Lexa's shuddering, pleading cry when Clarke coaxed her through the fourth that let her know that she had reached her limit...for now. Clarke brought her down gently, easing out of her, kissing her thighs, licking away the mess she'd made. Lexa's whole body was trembling as Clarke made her way back up. Lexa was breathing raggedly, a whimper in the back of her throat. Her bare skin glistened with sweat in the morning sunlight. She had her arm thrown over her face, protecting herself, but Clarke gently lifted her arm away.

When the darkness vanished, all Lexa could see was light. Pure, ethereal sunshine. It blinded her at first and then Clarke was there, blurry, hovering over her. Her long, golden hair was aglow, the morning sun behind her head created a halo and there was a shower of light over Clarke's face that made it all seem so much more like a dream than a reality. How could this...something this perfect....be real? Her lips were such a bright pink, swollen and glistening. Her shining blue eyes peered down at her, happy, loving, and a little bit smug.

Lexa's body still trembled in the aftermath of pleasure. She was wholly at Clarke's mercy, unable to do anything but stare up at her in stupefied wonder. She had never seen someone so beautiful. And she never knew that it could hurt so much. Her breath caught in her throat.

So much she held in every day, but this...this was where she couldn't hide. Never could. This angelic woman above her, flesh against flesh, sticky and soft and warm and solid and alive. Her body had been unraveled and inundated with pleasure beyond the point of coping. Lexa couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't stop looking at Clarke. She couldn't stop her heart from trying to burst its way out of her body. She couldn't feel any more because it was all too much. Too wonderful. It was everything.  
  
So she cried.

* * *

Her sobs were another release she never understood how badly she needed.  
  
But Clarke did.  
  
She didn't tell Lexa to stop. She didn't quiet her. She didn't ask what was wrong. She didn't tell her it would be all right.

Clarke nuzzled at her throat, stroked her hair, kissed her face, and held her through each wracking sob that tore it's way through her chest.  
  
"I'm here," she said. "I'm right here."  
  
Lexa tried to turn her head away at first, letting Clarke hold her, but still distancing herself and covering her face with her hand. But when Clarke's lips touched her temple and her fingers caressed her jaw, Lexa threw it all away and turned into her. She grabbed onto Clarke desperately, greedily, and buried her face in the crook of her neck. Clarke's skin was wet with Lexa's tears.  
  
Clarke held her in a firm but yielding embrace, letting Lexa cry out every emotion she needed to.

Pleasure, rage, pain, ecstasy, guilt, loss, loneliness, love...  
  
Lexa's body no longer felt like it was her own. Her mind was not her own. And her soul...her soul had joined another.

 _Heda_ was to be alone.

 _Heda_ was to rule.

 _Heda_ was discipline and control.  
  
But Clarke was here and she was _Heda_ no longer.

Each wave of emotion was more powerful than the next and she couldn't stop it. Her entire being was flooded with pain and pleasure, not knowing which was which, and she was spiraling out of control. This kind of agony was nothing she'd felt before...it was unbearable.

* * *

Some time later, the sobs eased, the tightness in her chest released. She could breathe again, shuddering sometimes, but still breathing easier. The tears didn't pour anymore. Her body ached from her head to her throat to her chest to her stomach to her legs to her toes where she had curled them up and dug into the mattress. Clarke was humming softly, stroking her hair, fingers brushing ever so lightly against her ear. She didn't hold her as tightly now, but she was pressed against her without an inch to spare.  
  
Lexa looked up at her, finally able to make eye contact again, and she saw the tenderness waiting for her.

" _Sonop..._ " Clarke murmured huskily.

_Good morning..._

She was smiling, but there was a sad, guilty twinkle in her eyes. “That _probably_ wasn't what you had in mind either," she said softly. "Looks like I traded one extreme for another...”  
   
"Clarke," she rasped, licking her lips, trying to think of what to say, how to tell her, or what she would even be able to tell her, but Clarke pressed two fingers against her lips and kissed her forehead.  
  
"Don't," she said, and nudged her nose affectionately.  
  
Lexa breathed in deeply, wholly relieved, because she didn't know what she would have done otherwise.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.  
  
Clarke winced. "Don't thank me just yet. Um, I have to take care of something really quick, okay?"  
  
Lexa's hold tightened instinctively at just the slightest hint of Clarke possibly leaving this bed.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere. I promise. Just..." She looked around, searching for something and then decided on her pillow. She propped it up by the side of Lexa's head. "Real quick. Don't talk," she instructed before wrapping the sheet around her chest a little more carefully and turned her head to the door. She didn't move from Lexa's side though.  
  
"HEYKIN!"  
  
Lexa stared up at her in open disbelief, but the door opened before she could express it. Her puffy face, tear stained cheeks, and blood shot eyes were, thankfully, hidden from anyone at the door by the pillow Clarke put next to her.  
  
"Urgent matters have come up. The Commander will not be able to train the youngbloods today. Perhaps later this afternoon, if she has time. Inform the masters immediately."  
  
" _Sha, Wanheda._ "  
  
The door closed again and Clarke pushed the pillow back down. She looked at Lexa sheepishly. "Okay, so I totally lied before. I didn't send any message. You're _super_ late for training.”

Lexa's mouth opened to respond, but Clarke kept going.

“Don't be mad. It's one training session and you can meet them later. Preparations are already underway for Mara. I know you're not meeting with any of the village leaders today and the delegates are all busy getting word back to their clans. I thought it would be okay just this once."  
  
Lexa watched her silently. Her eyes were swollen and still stung from the onslaught.  
  
When Clarke first told her that she had actually interfered with her responsibilities as _Heda_ , Lexa didn't know what to feel. She wasn't sure if she liked that Clarke would do such a thing.

Now she knew.

And she loved it.

She loved that someone could do that for her. To say what Lexa could not bring herself to say: "not today."  
  
Clarke understood the importance of her duties, she understood what Lexa did, stood for, and the weight on her shoulders. She knew that, understood that, and respected it. To find out that Clarke only interfered after Lexa showed a sincere _need..._ that told her everything.

Clarke didn't think it was her place to step in, not until she had to. It was because of that, that Lexa knew that she could trust Clarke in this too. In the smallest of ways, Clarke was sharing her duties as Commander. She did so by taking care of Lexa's needs. Not just her physical needs, but her emotional needs, and her mental well-being too.  
  
_Not today._  
  
Lexa trusted that Clarke would use this power wisely. If she allowed her to have this part of her, Clarke wouldn't betray her. And it didn't make Lexa weak for allowing her to do so.  
  
Unable to express a single word of this, Lexa nodded and pulled her close. She settled her sticky cheek against the warmth of Clarke's chest and closed her eyes. Clarke laid on her back beside her in silence, letting her fingers trail up and down her back with the lightest touch. Between the quiet of the room, Clarke's soothing presence beside her, and the utter, soul bending exhaustion that consumed her, Lexa finally surrendered to unconsciousness.

* * *

She woke a few hours later and found that Clarke hadn't gone anywhere.

As promised.

Clarke was sitting next to her, propped up against the headboard with pillows. She had a sheet of paper against bent knees and her left hand was curled around a piece of charcoal as she moved it across the page. She was wearing a shirt now, but her legs were bare and stretched out freely on top of the blankets. She had the same look of intense concentration she always did when she was drawing, her brow crinkled slightly between her eyes, her tongue peeking out occasionally on the side as she worked through a particular section she was unsure of.  
  
"What are you drawing?" Her voice was scratchy and her throat was still raw from earlier.  
  
Clarke didn't seem startled to hear that Lexa was awake. She smiled, not looking away from her work, and said, "That's for me to know and you to find out."  
  
"How will I find out?" Lexa asked sleepily, playing along.  
  
"You could be nice."  
  
"I am very nice, Clarke"  
  
"You could bribe me."  
  
"I give you all that you ask for anyway."  
  
Clarke raised an eyebrow in amusement and bit her lower lip.

_How true that was..._

Finally, she looked at Lexa. "You could try to take it from me."  
  
"But you know I would never do that."  
  
"I do know that."  
  
"So how will I see it?"

Clarke shrugged. "You got me there. Guess I just have to show you."  
  
She scooched down until she was lying next to Lexa and raised the drawing.  
  
It was only half finished, but there was enough that Lexa could see to know what it was. There was a small outline of a woman's naked back as she sat on a beach, looking out over a lake with grand mountains gracing the backdrop. She had long dark hair, braided in a most familiar way. The forest was only just starting to rise up around her, and most of it still needed to be shaded in.  
  
Lexa nodded, looking at Clarke.  
  
"We will go back...when things settle."  
  
"Things don't ever settle for us, Lexa."  
  
"We will still go back."  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
Lexa sighed, turning back to the drawing. "It's good."  
  
"It would be better with color, but I haven't really tried that yet. We didn't have colors to work with on the Ark. It wasn't considered a necessary resource."  
  
"I thought they brought you--"  
  
"They did," Clarke said quickly. "I'm just working up the nerve."  
  
"You possess natural talent, Clarke. Don't shy away from it."  
  
"You have to say that. You're my girlfriend."  
  
Lexa's brow furrowed in confusion as she looked up at her. "Your what?"  
  
There was a knock at the door. Clarke pulled the sheets over her legs and around her waist.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"Eli, _Wanheda_. I have your midday meal that you requested."  
  
Clarke looked to Lexa inquiringly and Lexa nodded.  
  
“Come on in,” she said.  
  
Eli was Lexa's Second attendant. There were five of them. Heykin was in charge, but they still answered to a chain of command and their ranking have them specific duties. The higher ranked attendants, Heykin and Eli, usually dealt with all of Lexa's (and Clarke's) needs directly while the others flitted around on the outskirts.

It was a sign of great trust and faith to be one of _Heda's_ attendants and to be ranked so highly was one of the greatest honors any non-warrior could have. They all took their jobs very seriously and refused to engage in any sort of casual conversation. It was considered unprofessional. Clarke had a hard time even finding out their names at first.

They bristled and looked down on Clarke in the beginning for trying to be friendly and conversational. To them, that was a sign of disrespect. Clarke thought it was lonely at first, but she was catching on to how it worked now, and they had changed their attitude towards her as well. They served her just as easily as they served Lexa. It wasn't a chore or even just a job. This was a calling for them – just as Lexa was called to be _Heda_ , they were called to serve _Heda_.  
  
"On the table."

He set the full tray down and exited only to return again with jugs of wine and water.  
  
"Do you require anything else, _Heda_? _Wanheda_?"  
  
Lexa wasn't looking at him, she was still immersed in Clarke's half finished drawing, so Clarke answered for them both.  
  
"That will be all. Thank you."  
  
He bowed and started to walk out.  
  
"Oh, and make sure the Commander isn't disturbed today unless it's an emergency," she added. "As in, _Polis_ is burning down kind of emergency, okay?"  
  
"Understood, _Wanheda_." He nodded austerely and closed the door behind him.  
  
"I will have to leave the room at some point, Clarke," Lexa said dryly.  
  
"Probably. But you still have some time before anything truly dire happens."  
  
"Clarke..." Lexa groaned in consternation, slapping the paper down. "Do Sky People not know what a jinx is?"  
  
Clarke laughed and took the paper back. "I believe the old saying is 'knock on wood'? Well, go ahead, you have plenty of it."

Lexa made an exasperated sound and curled up beside her, slipping her arm across Clarke's hips.

“Aren't you hungry?” she asked.

Clarke hummed affirmatively, her eyes still on the paper. “But I'm not ready to get up just yet.”

Lexa sighed. “Good."

They stayed there in a comfortable silence, Clarke engrossed in her work and Lexa content as she listened to the sound of scratches against paper.

 


	38. Champion's Reward

Clarke took a deep breath, preparing herself as she stood outside the double doors.

_Now or never._

She nodded to the sentry on her right and he opened the door for her. Clarke clenched her hands into fists and walked in.

It wasn't large, probably half the size of the room Clarke first used in Lexa's suite when she came to _Polis_. She didn't even keep her clothes in there anymore. Lexa's room had quickly become _their_ room.

This room was clean and sparse. There was a large window overlooking a different part of the city that Clarke didn't usually see. It was located on the west end of Lexa's mansion – she'd never been in this wing before. There were some remnants of what she presumed to be breakfast on a table by an open window. There was a small love seat against the wall and two rickety looking chairs to join the table.

He was sitting on a comfortable looking bed with furs, books piled up neatly on the floor next to it. He looked better, healthier, than in all the months they'd spent on the ground. There was color in his cheeks, his hair was trimmed and combed neatly. He didn't have a single visible cut or bruise. If it weren't for his arms folded in slings around his neck, he would have been the perfect picture of health.

“Long time no see,” he said, not bothering to stand up.

“I've been busy,” she replied curtly.

He rolled his eyes. “I bet.”

Clarke felt the anger flare up at once, impossibly high, out of control.

This was a bad idea after all.

She was halfway out the door before he called out to her.

She forced herself to stop, but she didn't turn around.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that.” His tone had changed; it was softer.

Clarke whirled around, cocking her head. “What _did_ you mean to sound like then?”

Bellamy shrugged helplessly. “I'm...I'm glad you came.”

She was here, she might as well go through with it.

Clarke nodded stiffly in acknowledgment and closed the door behind her. She stayed close to the walls though, running her fingertips over the peeling paint.

“My mom said you're healing well.”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting with a sigh. “She's been here a few times to check in, but there's not much for her to do. The healers here have been watching out for me too. Gave me meds and stuff for the pain in the beginning.”

“Hard to believe you're a prisoner.” Clarke looked around, moving towards the window to peer out.

There wasn't much to see, just the guards station three stories below and some crumbling, abandoned structures in front of him, but it was a window nonetheless. The sun was shining brightly on them, crystal clear skies. It was a beautiful day and as much as she knew she had to be here, that this was something they both needed, she also desperately wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere outside, with Lexa, enjoying this gorgeous day.

“It's got a view. Food's good too,” he said lightly. “Should have gotten myself locked up by the Commander ages ago instead of fighting it out by the dropship. What a waste. Could have been living in the lap of luxury all this time.”

Clarke wasn't in the mood to chit chat. She didn't have an ounce of energy in her to waste on pretending like there was nothing wrong and that they could have a casual conversation about his “new flat”.

“You leave in two days.” She turned back to him impatiently.

“I know.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Survive,” he answered simply. “Get out as quickly as I can, head for the Dead Zone. Heard some of the Grounders talk about it. Sounds like hell, but none of the clans claim it. Guess I'll find out why soon enough.”

“It's a desert,” Clarke said, remembering what she'd heard about it as well from her time with the Nomads. “A barren wasteland. Are you sure--”

“Do you have any better ideas?” he snapped.

“Actually, I do,” she sighed, bringing one of the chairs over and placed in front of him. She sat down with her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. “Go south instead. You'll have to pass through _Sankru_ territory, but if you can make it through...there's a place Indra told me about. She told me when she thought I needed to...”

Clarke stopped herself. There was no need for that story today.

“They call it the _Trigeda Plaats –_ The Glades,” she explained. “If you go far enough, you'll reach the people down there. They owe no loyalty to the clans or the coalition. They're not nomads, but they haven't been exiled like the people in the Dead Zone. It will be safe for you there.”

Bellamy didn't seem too interested. “South, hm?”

“As far as you can go,” Clarke pressed. “It will take months on foot. Maybe you can...steal a horse along the way? Get a ride when you can. But, yes, south.”

She'd been thinking about it for some time, but she didn't want to broach the subject with Lexa. Even though Lexa gave no sign of it, Clarke still felt guilty for wanting to help Bellamy when it was Lexa that he tried to hurt. Lexa knew how Clarke felt, but it still didn't make it any easier.

So Clarke sought out Indra and some of the other people in the house to find out more about what happened to people who were banished – where to go, what they did. Lexa's rule spanned thousands of miles, especially if _Azgeda_ territory was included in that, but Lexa hardly owned the whole world. Clarke found out that there were places beyond the lands of the 12 clans and that's when she realized she would have to finally face him again. Bellamy may be exiled, but she could still help him survive. It was just hard to look at his face and still want to help him while knowing what he would...and _could_ have done.

“Why do you think it's better than the Dead Zone?” Bellamy asked, shaking her from her thoughts. “As terrible as it sounds, it's definitely closer. Easier journey.” He moved his shoulders, gesturing to the immobile arms against his chest. “I have a better chance of getting there alive than I do to this...Glade place.”

“You would get there. You just wouldn't survive it. _Trigeda Plaats_ has a more forgiving climate and people there who would be able to shelter you, help you. No one will do that in the Dead Zone.”

He bristled. “I can take care of myself.”

“Bellamy, stop. _Think,”_ she said firmly. “I know you want to stay close for Octavia, but you will die out in that desert. Everyone I've ever talked to about that place says that only the strongest Grounders survive more than a few months there and, even then, it's mostly luck. They grew up learning how to survive in the wild, we haven't. Staying close will get you killed. If the people in the Dead Zone found out who you are, they'd turn you over in a heartbeat if they thought it would get them something in return. The clans will be watching for you – they don't agree with Lexa's decision to banish you. They think you should be dead and if you give them the chance...they will make sure that happens.”

“I get it, Clarke,” he said tersely.

“Then you'll go?”

He eyed her carefully for a moment before giving in and nodded slightly. “If you can get me a map or something, that'd probably help.”

Relieved that he was taking her advice, Clarke exhaled and nodded as well. “I will.”

He grunted quietly, looking out the window. He seemed uncomfortable, awkward, like he didn't know what to do next.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked quietly. “They'll give you water and a day's worth of supplies, but nothing else. I can try to--”

“I'll be fine.”

Clarke dubiously eyed his arms in the slings.

“I can move them,” he said, wiggling his hands for emphasis. “I'm just trying to make sure I do everything possible to speed up the recovery before I _really_ have to move them.”

She sat back in the chair and crossed her legs, picking some invisible lint off her pants. “Mom wants to petition Lexa for more time for you to heal.”

“It won't happen.”

“No, it won't,” she replied honestly.

There was no hint of remorse or disappointment in her voice. She still believed this was the right thing for him and he knew that.

Bellamy looked at her with those mournful brown puppy eyes, eyes that she'd seen too many times before, eyes that made her turn away uncomfortably.

“I'm sorry, Clarke.”

“Are you really?” she replied bitterly.

“I--”

“Or are you just sorry you got caught?” she snapped, turning her gaze on him again fiercely. “That you _failed_?”

“I thought I was doing the right thing!” he insisted.

She swallowed hard. “And now?”

“I was wrong,” he admitted plainly. “I was _wrong_ , Clarke.”

There was no heat to his words. His shoulders were slumped in defeat. He wasn't defending himself anymore.

“Why the change of heart?”

He took a deep breath. “Well, I've had a lot of time to think and plenty of _lectures_ ,” he chuckled mirthlessly. “I've actually spent a lot of time with Lincoln...Octavia...Kane...Abby...the guards.”

“The guards?”

“You said it first - it's hard to believe I'm a prisoner, right?” He raised his eyebrows. “I go outside whenever I want. I get fed well. They let me see anyone who asks. They bring me books and cards and anything else I want – within reason, obviously. It's...it's more humane than anything they gave the prisoners in the Sky Box.”

Clarke frowned deeply. Was he really trying to convince her that he changed his entire mindset about Grounders being the enemy because they let him eat and read a book?

“I didn't understand at first, but they just...the people I've met...I don't know, Clarke.” Bellamy exhaled harshly, frustrated by his inability to express himself.

Finally, he tried again, starting over.

“Do you remember when we first saw them? The masks? The black paint?”

She nodded tightly.

“I couldn't separate it in my head. Lincoln was different eventually because he saved Octavia, but the rest of them...I just couldn't see anything but those bone masks. Inhuman. _Savages_. They weren't real.”

“Just monsters,” Clarke added knowingly.

He was visibly relieved that she seemed to understand what he was saying.

Of course she remembered those days in the beginning. She'd felt the same way. But it seemed like such a lifetime ago. That was when it was brand new and they thought they were at war. So much... _so much_ had happened since then. So much had changed. It was strange to think back to that time, and even stranger to have Bellamy say it like it was only yesterday.

“When she left us on the mountain, what we had to do to save our people...I swore I would never trust another one of them again,” he said impassionedly. “That I wouldn't make the mistake that you did. Then when I heard you'd been captured...and I swear, Clarke, I thought it was Lexa that took you...I made a decision right then and there to do whatever it I had to do to save you.”

The anger surged again, she straightened her back, ready to counter, “You _saw_ us--”

“I did!” He cut her off quickly. “But I didn't believe it. I _refused_ to believe it. She was a monster to me, Clarke. I wasn't going to make that mistake again, trusting you with her again. I was trying to _protect_ you. I didn't see it.”

“But you see it now?” she asked tonelessly.

“I've had time. Time for things to just...stop. It's never stopped, Clarke. My whole life...even on the Ark, it was always about protecting Octavia, and then I failed her. When the dropship hit the ground, nothing _ever_ stopped. Not for one single moment.”

Clarke swallowed hard. She could feel his words sneaking under her skin, tightening her chest, churning her stomach. She knew what he was talking about. She knew what he was describing. She knew it all too well.

“In Arkadia, after you left, nothing changed. We just built more walls, built them higher and stronger.. Added more people to the camp. Still patrolled. Still watched the trees for the enemy...waiting for the next attack. We were never safe. _We never stopped._ Then I was imprisoned here and somehow this room ended up being safer than being behind the metal walls of Arkadia,” he chuckled bitterly. “For the first time since Octavia was born, Clarke...it _stopped._ ”

“Bellamy...” she tried thickly, but he wasn't finished.

“I play cards with one of the guards every night. Gurut wasn't a talker at first, but I kept cracking jokes...just to see if I could get him to break, and finally he did. We started playing cards, some nights he brings booze, and we just talk. Shallow stuff at first, rules of different games, the weather, that sort of thing. But then he started telling me about his family, how he has four girls: Jilan, Andrik, Matti, and Zida...what they're like. He told me about how Andrik brought home a _smendris_ last week and didn't know that they have a foul smelling spray they release when they're scared. The whole house still reeks and they had to stay with friends for a few days in the beginning until the smell became more tolerable.” Bellamy grinned, chuckling to himself.

Clarke was lost. “Why are you telling me this?”

He didn't answer her, just continued. “Gurut told me last night that his wife is pregnant again. He's worried. He said that under Lexa's rule, this is the closest thing the Grounders have ever known as peace. Without her Coalition, he wouldn't be alive to be here a sentry for the Commander in the stronghold. He would be dead on a battlefield somewhere with his wife at his side, leaving their girls orphans. But now Khatila is pregnant again and there's tension with the Ice Nation, a chance that he might have to leave home, leave his family. He didn't give me any more details than that.”

Clarke stiffened. “We don't need to get into that.”

“I'm trying to explain,” he said imploringly. “It's _different_ here than what I thought it would be. The people I've met, the way I've been treated, seeing the way they live... They're better than us, Clarke. Better than most people that grew up on the Ark. I didn't get to stop and see that before. I was too busy trying to protect our people, protect Octavia, protect _you_. It was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, having everyone look to me to help them and you just left me to do it alone. I was angry with you for that. We were supposed to be partners and you just took off – left us like it was nothing. Sometimes I hated you for it.”

“I know,” Clarke said quietly, clasping her hands tightly.

“But I get it now,” he said. “You needed to _stop_ too. You saw what was happening to yourself and you knew what you needed. I just...I just didn't understand until all of this...” He jerked his chin towards the room. “Lincoln explained the law to me, told me how it's a miracle I'm still alive. Kane talked to me too...about Jaha. I shot him and I was prepared for him to come after me when we were waiting for the Exodus to come down. I mean...I was going to run, but I knew the law, I knew I had broken it, I knew that it was wrong when I did it, and I didn't expect a different result. But you saved me then too. I talk about protecting you, but you've saved my life more times than I've saved yours.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “It's not about keeping track.”

“But it's true. I know you're the reason why I'm still here. Because she loves you.”

The knot was in her throat again, choking her. Her chest seized with rage.

_The crack of the gunshot._

_Lexa on their bed with a knife to his throat._

_The acrid scent of gunpowder._

_The way it was still warm in her hands after she picked it up from the floor._

“Would you have killed her?”

He lowered his head guiltily. He didn't need to say anything for her to hear the answer.

The rage boiled over.

“And you expect me to believe that you've just had a sudden change of heart because of a chatty guard and some downtime?” she all but screamed, getting to her feet, towering over him.

“I know you're angry--”

“You have _no idea...”_ she shouted, _“_ no idea what you could have done...” she trailed off, the words dying in her throat because she couldn't bear to say them.

“Clarke, I never meant to hurt you.”

She settled into herself, cold and shaking with anger. “You meant to hurt someone I cared about.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Lexa _banished_ you,” she spat in annoyance. “Why is it any different now? Why wouldn't you still want her dead? You actually expect me to fall for this 'changed man' act? What's your angle, Bellamy?”

“I don't expect you to believe me, but there's no angle. Did she fuck us over on that mountain? Yeah. We would all be dead if it wasn't for you. For what we had to do together. She caused that.”

Clarke glared at him fiercely, clenching her jaw so tightly it hurt.

“But Lexa made the choice to save her people over ours and we did the same thing, Clarke. We killed everyone in Mount Weather for _our people_ to live. We're no different. I still don't trust her. She's the same person who abandoned you that day, putting her people first, but she did spare me, and she's...she's _protecting_ you. That's more than anyone on the Ark ever did for us.”

Clarke nodded absently, trying to absorb this change, trying to accept that it was real, looking for any hint of insincerity – she didn't find it.

“I _am_ sorry, Clarke. I swear, I am.”

The anger was subsiding now, deflating slowly. She was uncurling her insides and relaxed her hands, but they still remained in fists.

“I believe you,” she said dully.

While it didn't sound like she was telling the truth...she was. She knew Bellamy well enough at this point to spot his lies and nothing he said today had been a lie. Clarke believed him, but she wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. That was going to take more time than they had right now.

Bellamy sighed, accepting her the wordless terms of her truce, and silence fell between them for a while.

“Uh...” He shifted anxiously, seeming more nervous than when Clarke first entered the room. “Octavia...she said she was going to visit the day before yesterday. That she was going to stay in _Polis_ for the last few days until I have to go. Ha-have you seen her?”

“Not for a week, I don't think. A lot's been going on.”

He nodded.

“I have a radio – _your_ radio,” she said, running her hands through her hair. “I'll contact Arkadia and see where she is. Kane just left today.”

“No, don't worry about it,” he said quickly. “She'll be here if she wants to be here.”

“Bellamy...”

“I mean it. Don't ask her. If she can't forgive me either...I accept that.”

“She's forgiven you,” Clarke exhaled harshly. “She just can't bear losing you.”

“Whatever the reason, let her make her choice. I tried to take away too many of them before. Whatever happens...happens.”

“Okay,” Clarke agreed with a light shrug. “I won't call them.”

It was his decision, not hers.

Knowing they were done for today, at least, Clarke certainly was done, she started walking towards the door.

“I'll try to come by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he echoed with raised eyebrows. “No good. I have plans. What's the _Polis_ version of a sock on the door? Check in with me next week, I might be able to open up some time then.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I will see you _tomorrow_.”

He grinned. It was the kind of grin she hadn't seen in so long from him, achingly familiar, and a pleasant warmth spread through her chest at the sight of it. _This_ was who she remembered. _This_ was the friend she thought she'd lost.

“If you insist.”

* * *

Clarke found Lexa sparring with the youngbloods. They'd spent most of their day in bed, but Lexa insisted on getting in a late afternoon training session since Clarke had interrupted the one planned for the morning. It was still warm and light out when she found them. Lexa was using a quarterstaff against a young blonde boy that Clarke remembered had been introduced to her before as Aden. Lexa insisted she had no favorites, only those who showed more promise than others, which was what Aden was. _Promising._

Clarke, of course, teased her for having a favorite. There was something so incredibly endearing about the way Lexa was with her younglings. The flutter in her chest whenever she saw Lexa with the children didn't go unnoticed.

It was a welcome breath of fresh air to see Lexa smiling as the young boy worked hard to fight her. She caught his staff and shoved him off lightly with a smirk.

“Good, Aden,” she purred, breathing a little harder. “Again!”

They went again, the clacking of wood against wood growing quicker and harder. Clarke could see how proud Lexa was, Aden was clearly doing a fine job of squaring off with the Commander. She was eager and smiling, but Aden's brow was furrowed in concentration, eyes set, mouth open as he moved his staff as quickly as he could, parrying Lexa, trying to turn the attack around, find a way to prove himself worthy to his _Heda._

Suddenly, there was a smacking noise, Lexa gasped and stumbled away before straightening her back at once, turning to face him with utter disbelief.

Aden was breathing hard, looking at Lexa hungrily for approval. Clarke bit her lip to hide her amusement. Lexa could only stare at him with wide eyes.

That _promising_ nine year old youngblood had just backhanded the Commander.

“Nicely done,” Clarke said, clapping lightly.

Lexa broke out of her stupor when she heard Clarke's voice and turned to look at her. She gathered herself quickly, recovering from the shock of the hit, and slipped back into her Commander role.

“I see that _Wanheda_ has joined us,” Lexa said loudly enough for the others who were still sparring to stop and pay attention. She looked to Clarke. “Would you care for a demonstration?”

She smiled. “It would be an honor.”

Lexa brought some of the older trainees forward, as well as Aden, and instructed them to show Clarke some of the newer skills they seemed to have been working on. Clarke watched them with interest as Lexa came to stand at her side, curious to see what it was they learned. She winced when Aden hit the ground with a hard thud, but he popped back up at once and kept going.

It reminded her of the short time she'd spent training with Litta's family and the Nomads who had taken it upon themselves to show Clarke how to hunt and defend herself. The nostalgia fell over her softly and not unkindly. She wondered if she would ever see those sisters again. She hoped she would.

“Aden certainly does show promise,” Clarke said, a slight hint of teasing, “especially if he has the guts to _slap_ the Commander.”

“He is improving much more quickly than I anticipated. He's better than I was at his age.”

Clarke frowned at the odd sadness in her voice and glanced at her. “Why do you seem so disappointed?”

“It is not disappointment.”

“Then what?”

“He is ready to be made a Second. I will have to assign him to one of the warriors soon. If we go into _Azgeda_ as planned, he will be going as well.”

The mere image of this small, all limbs, no muscle, gawky little nine year old boy, going headfirst into battle alongside people both twice his size and age was nothing sort of horrifying to Clarke. She watched him against the slightly older children with new eyes now, trying to picture him in a real fight, not just training with blunted weapons and glancing blows.

“But he's so young...”

“I was younger. And not as prepared as he.”

That struck something with Clarke. She tried not to look away from the demonstration, for fear of being rude, but she had to look at her, had to see Lexa's face.

Lexa had been younger and not as well trained, but she was sent out to be Anya's Second anyway. Clarke could hear it in her voice, she hadn't been ready, but whoever decided to end her training, the previous _Heda_ , or one of the Masters, clearly didn't care. Lexa was determined to make sure mistakes like that would never happen again. _That's_ why she cared so much about the youngbloods, why she spent so much time with them, personally invested in their development. She was protecting them when no one protected her. Perhaps Anya did, but there was only so much she could do... And perhaps Lexa had been lucky to have Anya when others would not have been as kind. Lexa wasn't just here to prepare the next generation of warriors, she was there to protect them.

“Do you have to?” Clarke asked, her throat dry, But she already knew the answer.

“It would be unfair and unjust not to. Why would I treat him any differently than I have the others? When a youngblood shows that they are ready, they are put forward to the next step of their training, alongside a new mentor. I cannot intervene simply because...”

“Because you care for him?”

“Because I know we are about to face a dangerous enemy and he will be a part of that,” Lexa replied firmly.

Clarke didn't believe for one second that was the whole truth, but it was all that Lexa was going to allow herself to admit. They watched the youngbloods jumping and twirling as they danced around each other, some falling, some victorious.

“He's strong. He'll do well,” Clarke said, not just for Lexa, but for herself as well. “Do you have anyone in mind yet? To assign him to?”

“A few. I have not yet decided.”

Clarke nodded and they let the subject drop. Lexa clearly didn't want to discuss it further and Clarke didn't know what else to say. She watched the children circling each other, various expressions of determination and satisfaction. The lighter feeling that she had while watching them before was gone now. They weren't just children, this wasn't just a game, it was real, and each one of them were going to be warriors on a battlefield – regardless of how small or how young. This was their way. Surviving.

Lexa clapped her hands, signaling for them to stop. They dropped their arms at once, panting heavily from the exertion.

“Well done,” Lexa said simply, “go slake your thirst.”

They bowed quickly and ran off to the well to gulp down some water.

She was about to address the group when Clarke stepped up beside her.

“It's been a while since I've done any training...” she said, “might I have a turn?”

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, but the smile was really in the glint of her eyes. “Of course, Clarke.” She scoured the small crowd before making her choice and waved an eight year old brunette forward. “Takanik is quite skilled, I believe she will be a good match for you.”

Clarke knew better than to be insulted. She may be years older than the little girl in front of her, but she knew that the little girl could lay her out on her back in five seconds flat. It was an advantage being trained your whole life, even if your whole life is only eight years. It was still more years of training than Clarke had.

“I have no doubt that Takanik is a worthy opponent,” Clarke nodded at the girl, “but I am woefully in need of more training so I had someone else in mind.”

Lexa's brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced quickly at the children who were gathered around them, wondering who Clarke had picked out.

“ _Commander,_ would you do me the honor of a lesson?”

Lexa jerked back to face Clarke, astonished, but she quickly masked it with her usual cool demeanor. The youngbloods lit up at once, whispering amongst themselves, rapt with fascination at Clarke and Lexa, watching with bright, eager eyes, to see if their _Heda_ would agree to such a thing.

Finally, Lexa gave a wary nod. “If that is what _Wanheda_ wishes...”

Clarke beamed, unable to wipe the grin off her face. Lexa was unsure about it, but Clarke couldn't wait. She wanted to know what it would be like for Lexa to try to teach her. If it would be different from the youngbloods. If it would be different from Litta's father or the Nomads. It was the perfect distraction from her earlier unsettling confrontation with Bellamy and a new way to touch base with Lexa after their unexpectedly intense morning.

The youngbloods all gathered round pushing and shoving at each other to get the best spots so that they could see _Heda_ teaching _Wanheda_.

“Raise your hands, Clarke.”

“What, I don't even get a weapon? Not even a staff?” She frowned.

“Do you know how to use the quarterstaff?” Lexa raised her eyebrow knowingly.

“No, but I thought that was the point of getting a lesson, _Commander._ ”

Clarke didn't even know what had happened until she was flat on her back in the dirt, staring up at the canopy of trees, trying to get her breath back from where the wind had been knocked out of her. Lexa appeared overhead, staring down at her with an infuriating smirk.

“Lesson one, Clarke. Your body is your greatest weapon.”

“I'm going to regret this, aren't I?”

The younglings snickered and smothered their giggles. They had formed a circle around them.

“Stand, Clarke.”

She huffed and rolled over, pushing herself onto her feet. “All right.” Clarke raised her fists the way Litta's father had taught her. “Let's do this.”

She was immediately whacked upside the head and knocked over from behind. Lexa had darted past her in one smooth glide. Clarke was face down in the dirt.

Growing more annoyed by Lexa's seeming intent to embarrass her instead of actually teach her anything, Clarke jumped to her feet and lunged for her.

Of course, Lexa easily rolled away and flipped Clarke over.

“What the hell are you--” Clarke snapped breathlessly, but Lexa interrupted her.

“Control your temper," she said in low, even voice.

She lifted Clarke to her feet and gripped her shoulders tightly.

“Find your center. Do not let your guard down. If you allow yourself to become frustrated, you lose sight of your goal, and the enemy has won.”

She kicked Clarke's feet until her stance was considerably wider.

“You must be lighter on your feet, quick to adjust, do not put so much weight on the back of your feet.”

“I thought you were supposed to be grounded?”

“You are not an immovable object. You move with the fight. Your center is not in the dirt, Clarke.”

“Really? Because you seem intent on bringing us closer together,” Clarke muttered.

Lexa stepped in close and her gloved hand slipped under Clarke's shirt before Clarke could say anything. She had a moment of panic, looking around, there were so many kids watching them, and the sudden intimacy of her touch threw her off. She didn't know what Lexa was doing, but she decided to go with it, trusting her.

Lexa's palm was splayed out against the middle of Clarke's chest, against her bare skin. Lexa's fingertips were uncovered so Clarke could feel her against her ribcage.

“ _This_ is your center,” Lexa said. There was no teasing in her voice or smirk on her lips. Lexa was taking her role as Clarke's teacher very seriously - as if Clarke expected anything less.

Lexa curled her hand into a fist, still pressed against Clarke's chest so she could feel it.

“Find that place inside of you, harness it. Once you do, it will be far more difficult for anything to throw you off balance. Even falling will not be a real fall.”

She removed her hand and raised her arms, intending to fight. Clarke took a deep breath and followed suit.

“Attack,” Lexa instructed.

Clarke knew how to throw a punch - several of them - so she jabbed forward and Lexa easily blocked it.

“Turn your wrist out more,” Lexa said simply. “Again.”

Clarke jabbed and Lexa dodged.

“You are defending your weak side,” Lexa said, referring to Clarke keeping her right hand up while her left moved forward, “that is good. Again.”

Clarke jabbed, but instead of just evading her this time, Lexa countered and delivered a swift undercut to Clarke's belly. Clarke grunted at the impact and looked at Lexa in shock. It didn't hurt as much as it stunned her that Lexa actually just _punched_ her!

Lexa didn't seem to notice or care about Clarke's open-mouthed face of astonishment.

“ _Watch me_ , Clarke. You cannot only think of your movements, but you must watch your opponent and react to theirs, use it against them. Decipher their body language so that you know how they will attack next and you will be able to not only defend yourself, but strike your own blow. Your body will rely on instinct, but you must be able to anticipate your opponent in order to win.”

Gritting her teeth in determination, Clarke jabbed again and knocked Lexa's hand out of the way when she went for the under cut.

She didn't wait for Lexa this time and immediately struck again. Lexa parried her with ease, but Clarke kept going. Lexa swung at her side, but Clarke rolled away so Lexa only brushed past her.

Lexa grinned and Clarke knew she was doing something right.

But then her back hit the ground again.

_Damn it._

* * *

Clarke got her ass handed to her more than once by Lexa and the youngbloods were greatly entertained even though they cheered Clarke on. Finally, Lexa called an end to it after Clarke landed for, what certainly felt like the hundredth time, on the ground. However, she'd managed to stay on her feet longer with each round, encouraged and challenged by Lexa's tutelage, her instruction, her fierceness.

At first, Clarke didn't know what to make of it, but she realized that Lexa purposefully put her off balance and was forcing Clarke to use her own instincts to correct it. Clarke already knew how to throw a punch and deflect it, but she didn't know how to fully utilize that in a real fight. Lexa created the uncertainty and pressure of the unknown to show Clarke how to _use_ the skills she'd already been taught.

“You did well, Clarke,” Lexa said, helping her to her feet with a soft smile.

Clarke groaned and rolled her neck, trying to work out the soreness.

“You are so showing these bruises some TLC tonight,” she muttered.

Lexa didn't know what that stood for, but she got the gist of it and smirked.

“You'll get a champion's reward, _hodnes_ ,” she murmured low enough for Clarke to hear, but not the children around them.

“You're damn right I will.”

Despite how bitter she sounded, Clarke was grinning from ear to ear. She'd made Lexa proud, she knew she did.

After Lexa made sure Clarke was steady on her feet, not too much worse for the wear, she took used the opportunity to teach her younglings.

“ _Wanheda_ is a powerful and intelligent warrior,” Lexa said, addressing the large group before her. “Do not let her missteps here mislead you. She has killed many and outwitted our strongest enemies. She is skilled in the use of her people's weapons, weapons that could cut all of us down in single instant. Never underestimate your opponent. She learns today what you have trained all your lives for, but do not forget that there are a great many things that she is capable of that you have yet to see.”

“What weapons do you use, _Wanheda_?” a girl with light brown hair asked, she looked like she was maybe eleven. “Are they the guns we have heard that _Skaikru_ wield?”

Lexa seemed to be okay with her speaking out unbidden. Clarke wondered briefly if Lexa encouraged them to question things.

“Yes,” she answered simply.

“Will you show us?”

“That will not be possible today,” Lexa said curtly.

“Actually...” Clarke started hesitantly, causing Lexa to turn sharply and look at her in bewilderment.

Lexa – very rightly so – thought Clarke would shy away from all this talk of guns and power, but as Clarke saw these young children training, fighting with quarterstaffs and blunted swords, she felt a desperate need to prepare them for more. Their world was changing because the Ark fell. Lexa was their mentor, it was her responsibility to teach them all the ways of the world so they would be the best warriors they could. This was a way that Clarke could help Lexa teach them – so that they wouldn't be so wary and unprepared for when the technology that they brought with them would inevitably weave itself into the Grounder way of life.

“You were all so obliging in giving me a demonstration, it's only fair that I return the favor.”

She leaned in and whispered against Lexa's ear.

“The gun you confiscated from Bellamy...have it brought here. I'll show them how it's used.”

“Why?”

“Because if they know how they work, they'll be more prepared to protect themselves from them.”

Lexa eyes were steel, but her voice was even. “Will they be needing protection from _Skaikru_ weapons, Clarke?”

Clarke swallowed thickly. “I think that someday...perhaps sooner than we think...they won't always be considered ' _Skaikru_ ' weapons.”

Lexa tilted her head back thoughtfully. Clearly, Clarke had presented her a facet of the future she had not fully considered. After a moment, she acceded, and ordered one of the guards to retrieve Bellamy's gun.

Clarke used the time to explain what bullets are and how damaging they can be to the human body. One of the boys pounded on his chest plate, saying that nothing so tiny could pierce his armor. That gave Clarke an idea.

She picked out some of the spare armor they had and hung it from a branch. Then she took a long roll of linen and used mud and her fingers to trace a rough outline of a human body. She lined it up carefully behind the suit of armor, pinning it to a tree.

“Your armor is tough and thick. It doesn't always stop arrows or blades, but it often slows them down, makes it more difficult to pierce your body. A bullet? A bullet travels ten times as fast as the fastest arrow you can imagine and it is made of a kind of metal that will tear through your armor like it's a sheet. Even your metal plates are no more than a piece of cloth against a bullet.”

“That's not possible,” one of the boys said.

“ _Em pleni. Osir get in ha osir nou na eno osir oso fig raun houd futta.”_

_That's enough. We know better than to close our minds to possibilities._

“ _Biyo moba, Heda.”_

_Apologies, Commander._

“Watch and then you can decide for yourself,” Clarke said reasonably.

The guard returned with Bellamy's gun. He refused to come into direct contact with it, carrying it in a thick, velvet cloth. It clearly made him feel uneasy to handle one even like that. His nervous behavior only made Clarke more convinced that she was doing the right thing. Fear comes from the unknown. Show these future warriors what it is their enemies wielded and they stood a better chance of surviving it.

Clarke took a deep breath, steeling herself against the nausea that waved over her at the sight of the gun...and the memories. But she only allowed that moment's hesitation before she took it in her hand. It was too heavy and too familiar.

She checked the clip and found it nearly full – just one bullet short.

The sickness rolled through her stomach and chest and she slammed the clip back in with more force than necessary.

One bullet.

Meant for one person.

But they were past that now. Weren't they?

“This will be loud,” she warned.

They nodded, eagerly watching to see what she would do. They were too young, too naïve, too free thinking to fear it as an alien material or something dangerous to them. It was simply a new weapon they were being shown how to use. Just like all their training showed them.

Lexa stood a little ways behind Clarke, watching it play out with a grim look on her face.

Clarke leveled it at the suit of armor suspended in the air and squeezed the trigger. The first shot rang out loudly, startling any nearby birds, sending them flying away, squawking and chirping. The children had jumped ever so slightly, but they refused to let it show that the noise had indeed gotten to them.

First one was the hardest.

Clarke fired several more in rapid succession and then showed them how it tore through their armor using the makeshift target. She showed them what the bullets looked like and then dug several out of the tree bark with a knife to show them how flat and crumpled the metal became because of the force of which it was shot – how deeply they were embedded in the tree with no need of physical exertion on her part. It struck deeper than any arrow or spear could. She removed the clip and let them each take turns holding the gun. Some were still too wary to touch it, others wanted to show their courage, but she could see how uneasy the touch of the strange metal made them.

She didn't let anyone discharge it. They weren't ready for target practice and she knew that Lexa would definitely not approve. This wasn't about training them to become snipers, it was showing them the weapon that they faced, educating them so that they would be prepared for defensive measures. She explained, from a medical perspective, the kind of damage bullets can do to the body despite them being “so small”, as one of the boys pointed out in bewilderment.

“I am not afraid of it,” one of the older girls spoke up brazenly.

“You should be,” Clarke replied. “This is scary. But the key is to understand it, to learn from it. You won't always know what your opponent has up their sleeve. That's how you survive. You learn, you adapt, and then maybe you even use it against them. It's what I learned when I arrived here on the Ground.”

She sighed, gesturing to the clearing around them.

“This world you live in? I grew up in another one – in the sky. My world was cold, without sunlight, trees, dirt, or even this air we're breathing. It was made of metal and it was far...far away.”

The children were utterly silent, watching her, listening with rapt amazement.

“Everything you see here is new to me. New and strange. But I _learned._ If you let the fear of the unknown stop you, paralyze you, then you've already lost. Be wary, be smart, don't underestimate anyone, _ever_. And this?”

She held up the gun.

“This is deadly, but there are ways to stop this too. You just have to be quick enough to learn how.”

She turned to Lexa who had stepped up beside her now.

“Isn't that how it works on the battlefield, Commander?”

Lexa nodded. “It is.”

Without warning, Clarke raised the gun to Lexa's head. The younglings tensed fearfully, many of them reaching for their meager weapons, ready to defend their _Heda_. There weren't any bullets left in it, but no one else knew that.

Clarke was shocked that her hand remained steady because every part of her was shaking in revolt against holding a gun, even an empty one, against Lexa like this.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Clarke said, eying Aden who was closest to her and looked about ready to pounce. “You're five paces away. All I need to do is move this one finger. The Commander will be dead before you even take the first step.”

Lexa stared her down. If it fazed her to have the gun nearly touching her forehead, she didn't show it.

“So what do you do? How do you stop me?”

Some of the younglings eased slightly, accepting that Clarke was still teaching a lesson and not actually attempting to assassinate Lexa. Aden still looked like he was seconds away from charging at Clarke.

“Throw my knife into your arm,” one girl called out, “it will knock you off balance and then he can jump you.” She pointed to the boy next to her.

“It's a good try,” Clarke said, “but hurting my arm will likely just make me squeeze automatically in response. _Heda_ still dies. Anyone else?”

They all offered up various choices of taking Clarke out, but Clarke explained thoroughly why each one was risky and unlikely to work.

“What then, Clarke?” Lexa asked patiently. “How do they stop you?”

“You have two options. One, is to convince me not to shoot her. Talk me down. Distract me. Get me to lower or move my weapon just a little bit, then you have an opening. Don't aim to wound, aim to kill. A wounded person can still pull a trigger all too easily.”

“What is the second?”

Clarke smirked at Lexa. “I think you know what the second one is, Commander.”

Lexa watched her silently for a moment, then, in the blink of an eye, Clarke felt the gun being knocked from her hand, her wrist bent, and she was flipped over, landing hard on her back once more.

“Yep,” she said breathlessly, “that's the second option.”

“Your hands are still your most trustworthy and effective means,” Lexa said, looking to the younglings, glancing back to Clarke as she helped her to her feet again.

Clarke used the moment to brush the dirt off her clothes and get her breath back.

“Be faster and smarter than the one wielding this weapon. As you must for _all_ weapons,” Lexa instructed. “This is more dangerous than any you have encountered and much, _much_ harder, but it is not impossible. Shield yourself. Use your wits. In the end, a gun is just another weapon like a knife or sword. It is wielded by a warrior and all warriors can fall.”

Clarke picked up the empty gun and tucked it into the back of her waistband.

“That is all for now,” Lexa said, clapping in dismissal. “Rejoin your masters and I urge you to meditate on all that _Wanheda_ has shown you today.”

They bowed respectfully, first to Lexa, and then to Clarke, before dispersing. Clarke heard them whispering rapidly amongst themselves, awed and excited to have seen something so new.

Lexa turned to Clarke with a hard, but not angry expression. “When did you become such a willing expert on your people's weapons?”

“When I looked at their faces and realized that they could find themselves in front of one someday.”

“But not from _Skaikru_?”

Clarke sighed helplessly, answering as honestly as she could, but it didn't come out as much more than a whisper.

“I hope not.”

Lexa lowered her eyes in silent acknowledgment before walking away to make sure all the youngbloods had left with their Masters.

Clarke hated the feeling in the pit of her stomach, but they both knew, and there was no hiding from it.

Someday.

* * *

Lexa returned from scouting out the clearing to ensure that everyone had left as they were supposed to, including the sentries.

“It's late, we should go,” she said, gesturing her towards the path that led down the mountain.

Clarke shook her head.

“Let's stay a little longer.”

Lexa followed Clarke's gaze to where the clearing opened over _Polis_ and the sun would soon dip into the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in hues of red, orange, and pink.

Clarke had never watched a sunset before. Not with this kind of view. She'd only ever seen it through the trees and maybe caught the end of one through one of the many windows in Lexa's mansion, but she'd never had the time or been safe enough to sit down and watch from beginning to end. Of course she'd wondered every time she had a moment to notice the vivid orange overhead, through the canopy by the dropship, but it wasn't important and it definitely wasn't safe. The fading light and changing colors signaled danger to her, that night would fall, and darkness was the time when they were at their most vulnerable.

But she was safe now. Lexa was with her.

“Unless you're mad at me for holding a gun to your head,” she teased, “in which case--”

“You taught them well today,” Lexa said, waving her off. “They will not forget those theatrics anytime soon.”

“Theatrics?” Clarke scoffed. “I would say it was a little more than that.”

“I don't need to put on a show when I teach.”

“How else would you have me demonstrate it, Lexa?” she said exasperatedly. “Shoot one of them?”

“Perhaps.” She nodded. “Just to show how it wounds.”

Clarke gaped at her. “You can't be serious.”

Lexa walked towards the cliff edge, not answering, which Clarke didn't really know what to make of.

“Come,” she said, sitting down on the mossy edge and patted the spot next to her. “You want to watch, right?”

Clarke settled down next to her, quiet for a moment.

“The gun was empty. I couldn't have hurt you.”

“Even if it wasn't, you wouldn't have hurt me.”

Lexa had her hand placed flat on the ground between them. Clarke eased her hand towards her and gently wrapped her pinky around Lexa's.

“ _Never,_ ” she said softly.

“I trust you, Clarke.”

Smiling, Clarke raised herself off the ground and clambered over Lexa's lap until she settled herself contentedly between Lexa's legs, resting her back against her. Lexa felt good and solid with the thickness of her Commander's armor. Relaxing into her was welcome ease to Clarke's tender and bruised body. Lexa's arms instinctively slid around Clarke's waist, her hands settling on her stomach. She pressed her nose into Clarke's hair before dropping a light kiss to her bare neck. A pleasant, shivering warmth spread through Clarke's body at the touch.

“Take your gloves off,” Clarke mumbled, already doing it for her as she undid the buttons and yanked at them. Lexa held her hands out passively, allowing Clarke to remove them without hesitation. Clarke tossed them aside and ran her fingers over Lexa's palms, sighing happily now that she was able to touch her without the rough fabric getting between them.

“How did it go earlier?” Lexa asked quietly.

Clarke groaned internally at the reminder. “I didn't beat him senseless so I guess it wasn't too bad.”

Of course Clarke had told her about her plan to visit Bellamy. After they finally left their bed, had lunch, and Lexa made arrangements for this late training session, Clarke decided it was now or never. She'd been putting it off too long. She hated having to say his name in her presence, but Lexa didn't even blink.

“ _I am surprised you have waited this long.”_

“ _Surprised? Lexa, he tried to--”_

“ _I know well what he tried to do, Clarke, but he's one of your people. You will always protect them. That is who you are.”_

“ _I might end up kicking him in the head. Does that count as protecting him?”_

_Lexa didn't smile, she just kissed her cheek. “Do what you need to do to make this right for yourself. Nothing more.”_

_She left after that and Clarke felt her words pressing into her with every step she took towards the prison wing._

“I noticed the lack of bruising on your knuckles,” Lexa replied lightly.

She moved one hand from under Clarke's hold to start massaging her neck. Her fingers were strong and certain, kneading firmly into the sore muscles. Clarke moaned in appreciation, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she indulged herself in the relief Lexa offered. She'd been tossed around like a rag doll today and the soreness was only going to be worse tomorrow.

“Why are you having your guard lie to him?”

Lexa's movements never stuttered. She continued to rub Clarke's neck with the same fastidiousness, not fazed in the least at having been caught.

In fact, she seemed to expect it.

Bellamy may have been naïve and ignorant enough about Grounder ways to believe that a guard would become so relaxed with him as to share such personal information about his family, but Clarke knew better. There was no guard in all of _Poli_ s that would have done such a thing without explicit instruction. It was against every rule they ever had -- foolhardy and dangerous.

Not only to let your defenses down around a prisoner, but to share personal information about your family? That was tantamount to getting your loved ones killed. Any piece of information like that could be used against them if the prisoner was ever released or escaped. No sentry worthy of his post would have behaved in the way that Gurut had without acting under orders, but Bellamy wouldn't know that. Clarke did.

“Is it a lie if it is someone else's truth?” Lexa replied calmly.

“ _Lexa_ ,” she said, exasperated, “I just want to know why you planted that sentry with him. What are you trying to do?”

“It was not my idea,” she answered. “Octavia approached me with a request.”

“ _Octavia_ asked you to have a guard spy on Bellamy?” Clarke echoed incredulously.

“He's not a spy. Octavia thought that a sympathetic ear might help him in his exile if he was able to understand more about what our people are like, to know our ways. Indra thinks highly of Octavia, she values her as one of her strongest seconds, I chose to grant Octavia her request as a reward for her dedication and...” she hesitated before admitting, “because I believed _you_ would approve of it as well.”

Clarke took that in, processing it silently. Lexa removed her other hand from Clarke's waist and started massaging into her shoulders.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Clarke asked finally, desperately trying not to let the amazing things Lexa's hands were doing, detract her from getting answers.

She exhaled audibly. “You flinch every time one of the names of your people is mentioned. I knew you would approach Bellamy in your own time. It was not my place to push you there sooner with that kind of information.”

“You _banished_ him, Lexa.” Clarke glanced up at her before turning back to the sunset. “His time is up in two days. Why would you help him now?”

Lexa ignored the question. “You said you didn't assault him and you don't look particularly upset now, so did it work after all?”

Clarke shrugged grumpily. “I think so...something like that, I guess.”

Lexa's hands stopped kneading and rested on her shoulders. Internally, Clarke bemoaned the loss, but they _were_ talking about something important after all. Later, she had every intention of holding Lexa to her promise of a champion's reward – complete with a full body massage.

“Then Octavia was right.”

“Lexa...”

“I can't change his sentence, Clarke, but perhaps this way he will be able to live a better life in exile than he did with your people. I know how much you care about him and I did what I could.”

Tears sprang into Clarke's eyes before she even knew what she was feeling.

Lexa was so honest and forthright about it. She helped someone when she had every reason not to. Someone who would have killed her. And Lexa did it for _her_.

The emotion overwhelmed her with a solid punch to the stomach. Once again, she was awestruck by the truly incredible woman that held her. Overwhelmed by how much she loved her.

How much she _loves_ her.

“Thank you,” Clarke murmured thickly.

Lexa kissed her temple lightly in reply.

“But next time, if there is ever anything involving my people, I need to know about it. I don't care if you think I can't handle it, you have to tell me.”

Lexa caught Clarke's chin and tilted her back far enough to be able to meet her eyes. “You have my word.”

Nodding, Clarke scooted down further as Lexa's arms wrapped around her again. She found her favorite little hollowed spot against Lexa's shoulder to fit her head against and settled down watched what was before them.

The sun was halfway buried between the mountains and the intensity of the colors took Clarke's breath away. She had never been able to see it like this before, never knew it was this stunning, that the whole world could change in the light like this.

“ _Wow_...”

“Perhaps we should come back for a sunrise sometime,” Lexa murmured against her ear.

“Is it like this?”

“Not exactly, but it is equally beautiful.”

“Then, yes, definitely.”

“It means you will have to wake _before_ daylight...”

“I'm aware of how it works, Lexa” she said sardonically. “Sun up, light out, sun down, dark out. I've got it.”

Lexa chuckled. “I'm merely pointing out that you have difficulty with early mornings, Clarke.”

“To see something like this? I can handle it.”

“You won't be grumpy?”

“I didn't say that.”

Lexa laughed and the sound was so perfect - breathy, light, and pure. She loved being able to make Lexa laugh. They fell into a comfortable silence for a while until Clarke had to break it. It had been bothering her from the moment Lexa said it and she couldn't let go.

“Would you _really_ have had me shoot one of those children?”

Lexa stiffened against her and she was quiet for a long moment before she took a shaky breath. Clarke turned away from the splendor of the scene before her to look up at Lexa. Her face was hard and her lower jaw shifted a little in that way it always did when she was upset about something.

Clarke regretted asking it right then. She could have waited. Instead, it seemed like she might have just ruined the peacefulness of their moment there.

“Perhaps I would have, years ago,” Lexa answered finally. “I was harder then. I thought that was right. That it was the way I had to be. I learned that it was not. Would I have you injure one of them today? No. But once...I might have. I am a different person today than I was when I first became _Heda_ , Clarke.”

Clarke shrugged. “I'm not the same girl who grew up on the Ark.”

Lexa tilted her head against Clarke's, tightening her hold around her waist. Clarke had her hands resting over Lexa's, but now she started rubbing gentle circles with her thumb against the bare skin.

“Would I have liked the girl on the Ark?”

Clarke thought about it. “Maybe. In a different way, at least.” She nudged Lexa affectionately. “Would I have liked you when you first became Commander?”

“No,” Lexa answered flatly. “But I think you would have been the first to show me the error of my ways.”

Clarke had to laugh. “I'm sure I would have.”

Lexa was quiet for a moment before she turned her head to look at her.

“I do not think...” she said in not much more than a whisper, “that there is any life in which I would not love you, _Klark kom Skaikru_.”

Clarke shifted back and met her intense gaze. Her heart thundered against her chest.

“I don't think there's one for me either,” she said softly.

They watched in silence as the sun set behind the mountains and the sky was set ablaze until it faded into twilight.

 


	39. Familiar

“This is a waste of time!” Mara seethed. “We should be on the move right now. Every day we delay only allows more time for the Elders to discover our true intentions. _Emo get in ai laik hir, Heda._ ”

_They know I am here, Commander._

“ _Azgeda_ spies are everywhere in _Polis_. Soon they will catch on that the armies amassing around the city walls and lining _Azgeda_ borders are only a distraction.”

“We have but a small window of opportunity,” Lexa replied calmly, despite the grumbles of assent around her from the lieutenants. “If we are rushed and careless, we will be discovered and our advantage is lost. Your knowledge of the location where their private meetings take place is all we have right now. We cannot waste it.”

They were in the war chambers, a sprawling map of _Azgeda_ territory was laid out on a long table that Lexa stood at the head of. Clarke was closest to her, on her left side, but the rest of the lieutenants were a little further down and crowded around the table, circling around the end, shoulder to shoulder. Mara took no position of prominence, standing alongside the others, but she certainly spoke with more vehemence than them.

“It will be wasted if we are discovered before we even leave the capitol!”

Lexa's silent, piercing gaze was enough to make Mara remember her place. The fierceness with which she spoke deflated somewhat and she lowered her head slightly in apology.

“Only Olkin will know where my son is,” Mara said with more restraint this time. “He is the First. He will not trust the rest of the Elders with that information. We find Olkin, we find my son. We can track down the other Elders with time if necessary.”

“You _assume_ he knows, but you don't know for certain,” Lexa said carefully. “I will not allow the rest the chance to flee, only to rise again later. An example must be made and future threats eliminated.”

“Commander, all due respect, you don't know them like I do.”

“I do not,” Lexa agreed, “but can you say with absolute certainty that the First Elder will give up all his secrets? That he won't have alternative escapes planned? What if he dies in the process of capture? What if he decides to kill himself before we have the chance to extract the information we need?”

Mara shrugged, shaking her head in useless frustration. “We just won't let that happen! If he dies before telling us, my son is gone and the other Elders will be in the wind!”

“Which is why,” Clarke broke in between the two women staring each other down with alarming ferocity, “it is better to create a reason for the Elders to be forced to meet. We can hit them all at once. Maybe one of them has your son in their charge and when we see who's missing from the meeting, we'll have more information then. You can't pin your hopes on just one person, Mara. No matter what your _personal_ history is with him.”

Clarke wasn't the only one who noticed how fixated Mara was on the leader of this group, Olkin. There was some dark history in that relationship. From the moment Lexa agreed to work with her to restore Mara to the throne, Mara was on a mission to single out the man. She wanted him dead, come hell or high water.

“You imply blindness instead of seeing it as knowledge,” Mara hissed.

“It _is_ blindness,” Lexa countered easily. “You must be able to see all players instead of just the one you view as most dangerous. That is when surprises happen and surprises are most deadly.”

“Olkin _has_ him,” Mara said stubbornly, “what else do I have to do to convince you that I am telling the truth?”

“I believe you,” Clarke said. “But that's not the point. You need to have more patience and wait until all the pieces are in place. Have you ever fought a war before?”

Mara flinched, her eyes flashing with anger, but she said nothing. It was not a question that needed an answer – everyone in that room knew the answer. Mara may have studied fighting techniques and war strategies, but she spent most of her life in seclusion. She had no real world experience to test her textbook knowledge.

“Well, I have,” Clarke continued, glancing pointedly at Lexa, “and the Commander has countless victories that you yourself said you heard tales of from your own people. We are taking a risk in trusting you, the least you can do is trust us in return. We know what we're doing.”

Mara scoffed harshly and stepped away. She knew Clarke was right, but it didn't quell any of her frustration about being unable to act on anything yet. Clarke took a deep breath, standing up a little straighter. She suddenly felt self conscious with all of the lieutenants watching her and she realized that she had just used the inclusive 'we' in front of all of them. She didn't mean to, it just slipped out so naturally.

Clarke knew that while there was a 'we' for her and Lexa in one part of their lives, there couldn't be in another part. She was still the ambassador for her people and while _Skaikru_ joining the Coalition meant that they were also Lexa's people, it wasn't quite there yet.

The newly formed union was as shaky and tentative as the newborn foal she'd seen for the first time in the stables a few days ago. Kane may have taken the brand, Lexa may have sworn to protect them as her own people, Abby may be working with the Grounder healers, but there was still tension among the clans about the decision and there has not been enough time yet for any real and lasting integration between her people and the Grounders to occur.

"We" was too much, too soon.

Nervous about her misstep, she smoothed down nonexistent wrinkles on her shirt and casually looked at Lexa to gauge her reaction.

But Lexa didn't seem affected at all. She nodded at Clarke in approval for being able to neutralize Mara for the moment and raised her chin, continuing to outline the plan with the other. Clarke wondered if she had even picked up on the wording at all. Did she mind it? Was it just as natural for her to hear as it had been for Clarke to say? Clarke shook her head ever so slightly, trying to clear her thoughts, and hear what Lexa was saying.

A strategic attack, minimal risk, but big enough and deep enough in _Azgeda_ territory to force the Elders to gather and reassess. It all hinged on how swiftly and discreetly Lexa could get her warriors in before _Azgeda_ knew they were there. The _Azgeda_ borders were being heavily guarded by Lexa's army. It made a statement and announced to everyone far and wide that the Commander intended to go to war. The Elders expected Lexa's declaration of war to be the same as her previous ones - loud and lumbering. Besides, the clans amassing at a magnitude of this level was impossible to hide.

From the intel they gathered, they knew that the _Azgeda_ Elders were prepared for war, but it wasn't the kind of war that Lexa was planning. More and more warriors from the clans were arriving in _Polis._ Upon arrival, they are sent at once to camp along the _Azgeda_ borders. But that is all. They too believed they were waiting for Lexa's next command that would send them over the border, to war, but Lexa had no intention of using them – not yet at least.

The army was a distraction.

The _war_ itself was a distraction.

Lexa had selected two small stealth groups that would sneak past the border with her and Mara. One team would strike right in the heart of _Azgeda,_ in their most prominent (and heavily guarded) city, while the other would be lying in wait for the Elders at the location Mara gave them. Indra was not present at the meeting today because she was still putting together the elite groups.

Such a surprise attack on one of their cities would put their enemy off balance and force the Elders to show their hand. They would be pressed to gather and reassess the meaning of this attack when the Commander's army was still seemingly idle on the borders.

The location of their meetings was always shrouded in secrecy, knowing that having them all in one place at one time was just asking someone to wipe them out. However, Mara was brought there once, years go, with Nia. She was made to stay outside and hidden. Nia wanted her nearby at the time, but she never informed the Elders that her daughter had joined her. Mara retraced her steps after she escaped and scouted it out, discovering that it was still used. She knew she needed that crucial piece of information for leverage when she journeyed to _Polis_ to make her case to Lexa.

If all went according to plan, the Elders would be captured, information about the army and Mara's son would be recovered. Without the Elders as a threat and her son safe, Mara would finally be able step into the light and let her people know who their true Queen is.

When it was time for the lieutenants to ask their questions and finalize details, Clarke met Lexa's eyes briefly with a shared look of understanding and she excused herself from the war chambers. She wasn't needed for the last part and the day was passing quickly.

Clarke would be going with Lexa and Mara into _Azgeda_ , she made that very clear despite Lexa's protestations. She wanted to see this through, she wanted to make sure this threat to her people, to all of them, was eliminated. But deep down, she knew the real reason why she wanted to go was because she didn't want to let Lexa go for that long. However long it would take, it was too long. She wasn't ready for them to be parted yet and the idea of being in Polis without her was overwhelming. They had started to accept Clarke, not one of them yet, but a respected guest, and she would fare well alone there.

But she didn't want to be alone. Not anymore. She'd helped Lexa plan this and now she was going to be at her side when they saw it through. Lexa was against it, but quickly relented when she saw how determined Clarke was. And maybe...maybe Lexa wasn't too thrilled about having to be separated from Clarke either.

Clarke took the long way by deciding to walk the grounds outside instead of through the halls. It was another hot day, but Clarke relished the sun on her face and in her eyes, it filled her and gave her a new breath from the crowded confines of the war chamber. She walked the length of the mansion, nodding to those who recognized her, which was just about everyone, and arrived to the entrance to the North wing. The sentries didn't even bat an eye when she stepped through.

The slings were off and he was intensely focused on some stretches, alternating arms. He moved his wrist slowly at first, then flexed his hand and curled his bicep. Repeating each movement carefully and methodically. Clarke knew it was the physical therapy exercises Abby taught him.

_He really was leaving..._

Clarke had stopped at the open door when she saw him working, but it was only for a moment. She went over the to the table by the window and laid out the map she'd procured for him.

“You need to keep it hidden somewhere on you,” she said in a low voice. It probably wasn't necessary, but she didn't want to risk a nosy guard and word getting back to the wrong person that Bellamy was getting any more special treatment than he already was. “Don't let them know you have it. I don't know if they'll try to take it.”

He got to his feet with a grunt and positioned his arms in the slings again. When he was done, he joined Clarke at the table and listened. She told him which route to take, showed him where everything was on the map, which clans were where, what places to avoid, the paths that would be most remote, and anything else she could think of.

He sat down in the chair with a sigh. “Thanks.”

Clarke remained standing, somewhat uncomfortable. She didn't know what else to do now. She'd fulfilled her obligation. She saved his life. She gave him somewhere safe to go. That was enough.

So why did she feel like it wasn't?

“You don't have to stay,” Bellamy said.

“I know.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You're...not leaving though.”

That seemed to shake Clarke out of her awkward reverie and she glared at him. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“Not really.”

He rolled his eyes and kicked the empty chair opposite him. “Come on, sit down, Clarke. I'll be long gone by this time tomorrow. Out of your hair for good.”

She didn't like the way that sounded, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she chose to take him up on the offer and seated herself cautiously.

“The hair looks kind of cool by the way.”

Clarke stared at him blankly for a long moment before recognition washed over her and she snorted in disbelief.

Her hair nearly reached the middle of her back by now, a striking change from what it had been when she left the place they used to call Camp Jaha. Not even that, but she wore braids too. At first, it was Lexa's attendants who encouraged it. It was practical, kept it from falling in her face all the time, but after things changed with Lexa, the Commander herself decided to take over the task.

The first time, she made sure to have Clarke's permission before attempting anything, and sat a respectful distance from her on the couch as she weaved her fingers through Clarke's clean and still slightly damp locks. After that though, it became more of a routine of second nature. She didn't need to ask for permission. It was one of Clarke's favorite parts of the evening when Lexa would slip into bed behind her, running her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp for a little while before actually starting to braid. Sometimes she would have to shake out the older ones that had gotten too loose and redo them.

Clarke would usually try to sketch during that time, but it almost always ended with her settling back between Lexa's legs, closing her eyes, utterly awash in the feeling of Lexa's nails scratching her scalp, the way she combed through her hair with her fingers so gently, the way she would brush against the base of her neck, making Clarke shiver with pleasure. They almost never spoke during those moments, they never needed to.

Clarke realized that to Bellamy, the longer hair, the intricate braids, her clothes...all of it must come as a surprise. She'd changed a great deal from the girl who left the gates of Camp Jaha. Not just in the way she looked, but it was certainly a reflection of what was within.

“I can't believe you're actually talking about my hair.”

The corners of his mouth turned up into a wry grin. “What? Girls like to be complimented. I'm trying to make small talk.”

“Don't,” she waved her hand wearily, “it doesn't suit you.”

“All right,” he nodded, “then tell me what's on your mind.”

Clarke didn't know why she wanted to tell him. Maybe it was because it felt different.

No, not different.

 _Familiar_.

Bellamy was her friend. He was the one who had stood by her side through some of the hardest things they'd gone through when they hit the ground. He was the one she relied on the most. If she needed something done, she knew Bellamy would come through. Maybe they weren't partners, exactly, but he was her Second. She couldn't think of a better comparison. Not that she trained him, but the reliance, the loyalty, the bonds forged in battle and blood... He was going to leave and even if everything went according to plan, she wouldn't see him again for a very, very long time. Her chest grew heavy with the thought of it.

It slipped out before she knew it. And more came tumbling after that. She told him about the Ice Nation, the possible war, their chance to end it. She didn't give precise details as to their plans for an attack, but she did tell him about the impostors, Mara, the infant _Azgeda_ prince, and the Elders.

She told him more than she should have, but it didn't feel _wrong_. It was natural to talk to him like this again. He listened intently, asked the right questions, offered some of his own thoughts. It was almost like old times, going over battle strategies, talking about the enemy, their people, working through doubts and second guessing.

Clarke left the room later than she expected, but she left breathing easier, feeling lighter. Reconnecting with Bellamy, the _real_ Bellamy, was like mending another small piece of a burned bridge between her and her people that she thought she'd never truly be able to repair.

He would be taken to border of _Polis_ after dawn and it would be years, if ever, before she saw him again. It didn't hurt, really, but sadness lingered. Perhaps it was naïve, but Clarke felt it deep down that she would see him again. She would bring him back somehow. Maybe that's why it didn't bother her as much as it might have otherwise. There was hope.

He was alive and that always meant there was hope.

Before she left, he'd asked about Octavia again. It surprised Clarke that she had forgotten about Octavia so quickly, but, to be fair, she did have a lot of other things to deal with. She didn't know why the other Blake hadn't shown to see her brother off. When Bellamy had mentioned it the first time, she was sure Octavia had just been delayed. But he was leaving tomorrow and still there was no sign of her. It was strange and a little alarming because the last time she'd seen Octavia, her loyalty to her brother was still as strong as ever. Perhaps something had changed between then and now.

But there was an insistent tug at the corner of her conscious that said otherwise. She contemplated radioing Arkadia against Bellamy's wishes, but decided against it. If Octavia didn't want to show, Clarke wasn't getting involved with it. She would call after Bellamy was safely escorted out of _Polis_ to let her know that he was gone though.

* * *

Clarke went for a walk through the market square after meeting with Bellamy and picked up some more charcoal, along with a new drawing tool that was designed with lead. They didn't have pencils, exactly, in _Polis_ , but the soft lead still existed and they used various bits of scrap metal and wood to hold it and shape it for writing and art.

The man she bought it from had a small stall for tools he made himself, but his real draw was the art lining the makeshift lean-to. Shaded from the sun and displayed with care. He seemed excited to see her again after Lexa had introduced them weeks ago. The man was a small sort of celebrity in _Polis_ from what she could tell. Everyone seemed to know his name and his work was clearly beyond any of the other talent Clarke had seen in _Polis_.

It was a fascinating juxtaposition against the classics that Clarke studied on the Ark and seen in Mount Weather to what this man created with simple colors and such strong emotion. It was nothing like she'd seen before and she was curious to know more. She didn't have time to stay and talk much with him today, but he offered to have her come back to speak more in depth and Clarke was genuinely looking forward to it. Someone knowledgeable to discuss art with? Someone to learn from? Clarke had so few opportunities like that on the Ark, they never let her take more than the basics considered necessary for drawing up engineering plans. It had been a hobby entirely of her own and encouraged by her father who, every week, would bring back a new art book for her to bring up on screen and study at night, trying to learn and explore it for herself. Abby didn't see the practicality of it, but it made Clarke happy, and she never minded - as long as Clarke never slacked in her other responsibilities. Which, of course, Clarke never did.

Eager to try out her new tools, Clarke hurried back to the stronghold. It was late afternoon by the time she got back to the suite. She set the bag down in the main sitting room and walked into their room in search of Lexa. The sentries said she had returned recently from the war chambers and she wanted to tell her about Bellamy and what she'd found today.

The sentries were right, Lexa had returned, and Clarke's stomach bottomed out at the sight before her.

Lexa was naked and on her stomach in their bed with one of her attendants, Talia, straddling her back. _Of course_ it had to Talia, the most attractive one of them, the one who had even caught Clarke's eye when she first arrived in _Polis_. Lexa had her hands folded above her head, her face turned away from Clarke, as Talia slid her hands over the smooth expanse of Lexa's back, glistening in the muted light of a dwindling day and golden from the candlelight reflecting off the oils she used. The intimacy of the scene before her denied Clarke any semblance of logic and instead all she felt was overwhelming nausea, her cheeks burned, and the venomous blood of jealousy coursed through her veins.

Talia looked up from her work and saw Clarke. She didn't smile, not that she ever did, but she did nod slightly in acknowledgment before turning back and massaging into Lexa's muscles. Her skilled hands and fingers that were skimming over the tattoo along Lexa's spine, the ink that Clarke traced almost every night, the places that she'd marked as her own, the places she wanted to be the only one to touch.

Clarke realized she'd been frozen there for too long and she finally forced herself to step further into the room. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to voice her presence, didn't know how to keep herself from physically hauling Talia off of Lexa and kicking her out of the room with no small amount of violence.

“Lower,” Lexa said, her voice deep and velvety in a way that Clarke thought had been reserved for her, but apparently not. “It's tight there.”

Talia shifted back so that her hands were kneading into Lexa's hips and slipped down over the resplendently round shape of her ass. Clarke couldn't stand another second of it.

“ _Tight_ , is it?” she managed to get out in a strangled sort of sound.

Lexa made a sleepy noise of contentment and turned her head to see Clarke with a lazy smile. “You're back. Good.” She patted the empty side of the bed next to her. “Come. Talia will tend to you next.”

“ _Excuse me_?”

“Strip, Clarke,” Lexa murmured. She was relaxed and nearly half asleep as Talia continued to work her fingers into her back. “She has the best healing hands in _Polis_. It will help ease your ache from our training yesterday.”

She smirked mischievously, reminding Clarke of last night when it was Lexa's turn to tend to the bruises that she'd caused during their training.

“I am talented, Clarke, but even my _care_ does not match her skill.”

“You want me to get in that bed with the two of you? Naked?”

Lexa raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. Clearly, she questioned Clarke's tone, but she wasn't about to comment on it yet.

_Okay. She could do this. It was something Lexa wanted. She'd never really been in this position before, but Lexa clearly knew what she was doing. Clarke could be this for her. She could give her this._

_Whatever this was._

_She could do this._

_At least, she thought she could_ _do this...?_

Clarke grasped at the bottom of her shirt with sweaty palms, tugging at it lightly, but her mouth was dry, her heart was racing uncontrollably, and she was having trouble swallowing.

_She couldn't do this.  
_

Clarke stopped, and shook her head in disbelief, dropping her hands from her shirt.

“Talia, get out.”

The attendant looked up in surprise, her hands stilling. Lexa frowned in confusion.

“Clarke, what--”

“Leave us,” she said sharply, eyeing the girl so that there was no mistake.

Talia hesitated, unsure of whose command to follow, but Lexa nodded slightly and she immediately slid off the bed, and exited the room without a word.

Though Lexa remained composed in Talia's presence, her annoyance at Clarke's behavior flared up the second she was gone. She sat up in the bed, glaring at Clarke.

“Explain,” she said firmly.

“Oh, no,” Clarke scoffed, storming up to the bed, “I think it's the other way around.”

“You were inexcusably--”

“You are _naked_ in bed with another woman touching you and you want me to explain _myself_?”

“Just what exactly do you think was happening, Clarke?”

“I don't know! But it's not like that sort of thing is _new_ to you,” she sniped. “And I told you, Lexa, I don't--”

“ _Stop_.”

The darkness in Lexa's voice was what stilled her more than anything.

“I confided in you, Clarke, to show my loyalty, not so that you could fling the past back in my face because of petty jealousy.”

Clarke felt a lump form in her throat. She'd crossed a line, she knew that, and now, with Lexa staring up at her with that look of hurt, of anger in her eyes...she deflated, stumbling, crumbing into herself.

God, of course it wasn't like that. She didn't actually believe there was anything illicit going on between them. Lexa had even been thinking of her. Clarke knew that what she walked in on had been exactly what it looked like. But it was all so confusing. There had been such _intimacy_ between them... She thought for a moment, just the briefest flicker of a moment, that Lexa desired someone else, something more in their bed than just Clarke, but that had been rash and illogical. There was nothing wrong with what Lexa had been doing.

Yet, it still upset her. It _still_ made her blood boil. She couldn't help it and she hated herself for it.

“Forget it. I'm going to take a bath.”

“You interrupted a much needed session after I trained for three hours this morning, rudely dismissed my attendant, acted like an entitled, spoiled child, and now you're trying to walk out without a word of apology or explanation? That's unacceptable, Clarke.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I'll apologize. I'll even send her back in so she can finish what she started if that's what you _need_ ,” she ended the last word bitingly.

Clarke grabbed some clean clothes and started for the door, her head still spinning, unable to rid herself of the image burned onto her eyes of the beautiful girl touching a nude and glistening Lexa.

A touch on her arm stopped her and Clarke spun around at once, frozen, unable to do anything but glare.

Lexa's anger was fading, morphing into something more of bafflement at this point.

“What is this? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” she said stiffly, looking everywhere but Lexa.

“Clarke, you are not acting like yourself.”

“I don't want her _touching_ you,” she said almost petulantly.

“There was nothing--”

“I know!” she exclaimed, frazzled. Her sudden outburst took Lexa back and she dropped her hand that was on Clarke's arm. “I know that I'm being unreasonable and unfair and childish and selfish and about a million other ridiculous things right now, but I can't...”

She shook her head, eyes lowered because she couldn't bear to meet Lexa's gaze.

“I'm just going to get some air or something okay?”

“Clarke...”

“I messed up,” she admitted shamefully with a forlorn wave of her hand and turned to go.

But Lexa's arms surrounded her from behind, enfolding her into a tight embrace.

“Don't leave.”

Clarke exhaled in disbelief, letting herself fall back into Lexa's embrace. One she didn't deserve.

“Why aren't you mad at me?” she asked in soft disbelief.

“How can I be? You are unaccustomed to the commonality of this practice with my people and it surprised you. It's okay, Clarke. There was nothing--”

She spun around, interrupting her. “I _know_ there wasn't. I just...” she sighed sheepishly, “I think I got too used to you being mine.”

“I _am_ yours,” Lexa insisted, perplexed.

Clarke shook her head. “No...I mean really _mine_ , like, I'm the only one who gets to...” she ghosted her fingertips across the delicate line of Lexa's collarbone, the oil still slick and coating her fingers, “feel _this_ , to touch you this way...to know every inch of your body. Ever since we met, it's like I've had you all to myself – not the Commander side of you, but _you_.”

She slipped her arms around Lexa's bare waist and stepped closer, pressing their bodies together in that warm, solid familiarity. Clarke's skin felt like it was burning through her clothes, just to be able to touch Lexa, flesh to flesh. She tucked her face into the crook of Lexa's neck, letting herself breathe in the fragrant aroma of the oil, letting it soothe her as it was intended. Lexa sighed, curling her arms around Clarke in return. She didn't press her for more, but Clarke knew she was waiting for it.

She tried to sort it in her head as quickly as she could. Lexa deserved an answer, an explanation, and Clarke wanted to give it to her. She didn't want to be this person. She couldn't take back her overly dramatic knee jerk reaction, but she could explain. Surely, she could manage that?

“You're not really a people person,” Clarke said quietly after a few long beats of silence and lifted her head to face her. “You keep yourself distant from everyone...everyone _except_ me. I got used to it. Selfishly. Used to being the _only one_ with that privilege. Seeing her with you like that, touching you, on top of you, naked...it caught me off guard. I know that it's unfair and awful of me to keep expecting it, but I just...I got _used_ to it. Do you understand what I mean?"

Lexa cupped her face gently and kissed her. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining with adoration. Her thumbs caressed her cheeks in the gentlest, most loving way. Clarke didn't understand it one bit. Lexa should be having the opposite reaction.

“Take off your clothes,” she husked, brushing her lips against hers teasingly. “And get into bed.”

Clarke nodded mutely, utterly powerless to deny her at this moment.

Once bare and sliding under the furs, Lexa went to the door and called out in _Trigedasleng_ for Talia to return.

Clarke's heartbeat sped up, but she said nothing. Lexa turned back went to the other side of the bed, slipping in beside her, lying on her stomach. Clarke rolled over to mimic her, palms above her head and flat on the bed. Lexa smiled and tucked her hand underneath Clarke's.

“No one can ever touch me the way you do, Clarke,” she said just above a whisper. “ _No one_.”

Clarke sighed, nodding, letting herself believe it, letting the words sink it, letting it erase the image of before, replacing it with one far better. Her Lexa, nude and glistening, purring and coaxing, wholly relaxed and sleepy, asking Clarke to join her in bed.

Talia entered the room again, albeit with far more caution than she usually would.

“You may continue, Talia,” Lexa said, looking up at the girl. “ _Wanheda_ would greatly appreciate your help to alleviate some of her aches.”

Talia nodded stiffly and then Clarke felt the bed shift under a new weight. Talia knelt next to her, her legs pressing against Clarke's hip, and it took a gentle squeeze of her hand from Lexa to remind her to breathe.

The strong, herbal scent of the oil filled her nose again and she tensed when warm hands met her bare skin.

She didn't remember much else after that until Lexa kissed her into waking for supper.

* * *

“I don't think I can move.”

Lexa chuckled. Talia was gone after attending to both Clarke and Lexa. The sun was setting and Eli had brought them supper which was growing cold as Lexa took the time to convince Clarke to get out of bed.

“I don't think my body has ever experienced anything so heavenly.”

“Careful, you'll make _me_ the jealous party here.”

Clarke stretched languidly, yawning, with a sleepy smug grin on her face. “Nothing could _ever_ compare to you, Commander,” she drawled, “but that was certainly a new experience.”

They'd never had massages like that on the Ark. Actually, they never really had massages in general. Maybe a quick shoulder squeeze or the type that involved painful, but necessary, physical therapy. With this...it was like Talia knew every specific trigger point on her body, invoking pain, pleasure, and relief. Each place she reached, each technique she used, it was unlike anything Clarke had experienced and her body was left feeling both heavy and weightless. Boneless and content. She could sleep for days if Lexa would let her.

But Lexa wanted dinner.

“Do you feel more comfortable with it now?” she asked, clothed in her robe and a nightgown, as she sat beside Clarke on the bed.

Clarke nodded sleepily, she definitely had a new perspective on it, but there was something that still tugged at her.

She rolled on her side and tucked her head under her hand. “Do you think...” she started in a small voice.

Lexa leaned in closer, bracing herself on her arms. “What?”

“Do you think the next few times you do it, it could be _together_ still?”

Lexa smiled warmly. “ _Of course,”_ she said gently, “but, Clarke, you know you are welcome to request Talia's services yourself? If she is not available, there are several others with similar talents for massage and relaxation. It's an integral part of keeping the body loose and limber, prevents potential injury.”

“I know, but still...the next few times... _us?_ Then we'll see?”

Her head told her one thing, her experience said the same thing, yet her heart still held onto the pain of her first reaction upon walking in to find Lexa that way. She just needed time. Time to adjust. Time to experience this new form of intimacy, of touch, that she had never really known in her life on the Ark. Time. Lexa seemed to understand that because she simply nodded in agreement and said no more about it.

She eyed Clarke's nude body while she still lay there in bed before turning back up to her face with a smirk. “Find a way to move, _hodnes_ , otherwise your supper will be cold.”

“Feed me here.”

She laughed. “Have I spoiled you too much, Clarke?”

“No such thing,” she scoffed.

“All right,” Lexa smiled, “supper in bed it is. But do you think you can bring yourself to lift the food to your mouth by yourself?”

“I'll consider it.”

Clarke grinned happily, biting her bottom lip with relish, as Lexa walked off to retrieve their plates, but her happiness wasn't because of the food, it was because of Lexa's laughter that echoed.

* * *

Clarke finally got out of bed after they ate, but it was only to go into the sitting room to retrieve the items she purchased in the market square earlier. She wanted to show Lexa what she bought and try it out while Lexa hunkered down with the evening dispatches that came in droves tonight.

She had thrown on a robe haphazardly and moved leisurely to pick up the bag. Footsteps sounded behind her and she looked up just in time to see Talia pass by, carrying towels for the bathing chamber. Clarke knew she couldn't apologize – Lexa made it clear that the attendants were to view Clarke as equal to her in stature. Lexa would never _apologize_ to them and they would view Clarke as improper if she were to stoop to that level. _Heda_ never apologizes. _Wanheda_ can't either.

Still, she felt badly about her behavior earlier and even more so after Talia was so generous with her time and tended to Clarke with such care.

“Talia,” she said, stopping the girl who was moving quickly, likely to get away from Clarke. “I just wanted to say...”

She trailed off when she noticed that the girl didn't seem to be listening to her, instead her eyes had flickered down to the supplies in Clarke's bag.

That gave her an idea.

“Do you draw?”

Talia's eyes snapped up to meet hers guiltily, not expecting to be caught like that.

“I...not really. I have tried my hand at painting somewhat, but nothing ever really...” she shrugged and shook her head in embarrassment.

“But you have an interest in art?”

Talia gauged her carefully, parsing her words. “I appreciate such works, _Wanheda_.”

Clarke smiled. “Well, the man I bought this from, he's an artist himself. Pretty talented from what I saw. He offered to have me stop by sometime, learn a few things...”

Talia's eyes went wide. “ _Nevan_ offered to teach you?” she blurted out, breaking her usual cool demeanor with shock and enthusiasm. “He has not taken a student for nearly twenty years now...”

Clarke nodded knowingly, a glint in her eye. It was such a welcome relief to have finally elicited something less formal and actual emotion from this girl. “Well, I suspect the Commander might have had something to do with it, but I won't turn down the offer. Do you think, if you're not busy of course, that when I meet with him again, you might join me?”

Talia was clutching the towels to her chest now instead of just carrying them in front of her. “Join you, _Wanheda_?”

“Yes,” Clarke nodded, “I might need some assistance that day and I'm sure the Commander would be able to spare you for a few hours. I would feel better if there was someone there with me that knows their way around...”

That was a lie. Clarke didn't have a problem at all strolling through the square alone now, but this was her peace offering. Her apology without words. She hoped Talia understood that and accepted it.

Talia's eyes that had lit up at the mention of Nevan now retreated back to their usual formal dullness, but Clarke could feel the electricity thrumming through her veins despite her best efforts at remaining composed.

“If _Wanheda_ wishes for me to accompany her, I will do so.”

“Good. It's settled.”

Clarke raised her bag higher and started back for the bedroom. She was in the middle of wishing Talia a good night when she saw the pensive look on her face and stopped. She didn't ask what was wrong, merely waited for the girl to speak.

“I will show you,” Talia said simply, “how to do it, how _Heda_ likes it.”

Clarke nodded, a knot in her throat, unable to say anything else. She knew it was a peace offering from Talia in return, but it made her stomach twist in the most unpleasant of ways. She didn't like being on the outside of this, not knowing how to care for Lexa's needs in this way. She would take Talia up on her offer and learn as much as she could, but she still hated this uncertainty. She wanted to be everything Lexa needed.

Which was absurd.

But it didn't stop her from thinking it.

“Good night, Talia.”

“ _Reshop, Wanheda._ ”

 


	40. Partners

Normally, Clarke would have enjoyed the silence. Lexa was at her desk going through the evening dispatches with practiced thoroughness while Clarke was _technically_ reading, but she never managed to make it to the next page, reading the same words over and over. She'd been too tired and distracted to try out her new art tools after all and settled on one of Lexa's books, but that wasn't working either. Her mind was far from the story, pulled back to the events of earlier today in the war chambers. She was anxious about going into _Azgeda_. They were scheduled to leave in two days. Tomorrow Bellamy would be gone and then the next day Clarke would be off on horseback with some of Lexa's finest warriors to slip into the deepest of _Azgeda_ territory. Heykin had been preparing her pack with the clothes she would need and there were an awful lot of layers and fur and heavy fabric in there. Apparently, _Azged_ a was going to live up to its name with “Ice Nation”.

_Well, I survived being burnt to crisp, so frostbite can't be much worse..._

However, the impending journey and unknown wasn't the real reason for her anxiety. It was something on her mind, but not what caused the pressure between her eyes, the heaviness on her chest, or the flip flopping of her stomach.

It was her slip up.

That pesky little “we”.

Clarke stood up, going to window first in a restless movement, looking out at the still busy city below them. Lexa didn't react to it in the moment and she didn't mention it since, but Clarke could feel it hanging there. Whether or not Lexa intended to address it, she knew she was going to have to. “We” wasn't supposed to be allowed. Clarke was the _Skaikru_ ambassador and her people were under Lexa's command, but she wasn't Lexa's partner. It wasn't an alliance between two separate entities uniting against an enemy. Politically, she had been Lexa's equal then, or as close as she could get to being the Commander's equal.

Now she was _Wanheda_ , ambassador, but the Sky People were no longer at war and she was no longer their _de facto_ leader. Her mother was the Chancellor, though not for much longer since they would have the election soon. The fact of the matter is, Clarke was their war time commander, but she was not their leader in peace. She was there when they needed her, but they didn't need her that way anymore. She'd done what she was supposed to and now Kane would step in to keep the domestic peace.

So what was she now?

What did ambassador even mean?

She was supposed to make sure her people's interests were looked after in matters of _Polis_ , but beyond that... What? She had long since removed herself from her people, her friends, her mother. Even with coming to _Polis_ and the Sky People joining the Coalition, she was still staying away - a radio being her most intimate connection. She wasn't ready to go back and Lexa was being called far north, deep into ice and snow. Clarke would join her, but that meant more physical distance than ever before between her and her people. It shouldn't bother her anymore, she'd been gone for the better part of a year at this point, but it was still slightly unsettling. She didn't know why. They didn't need her and Lexa...well, Lexa didn't need her either, but Lexa _wanted_ her. That was everything. Because she wanted Lexa too.

Unable to stand at there for a moment longer, continuing to let it go unsaid, Clarke walked the distance halfway between the window and Lexa's desk. She stopped awkwardly behind the couch, leaning against it with her hip and watched an intently focused Lexa reading before she took a deep breath.

“In the war chambers today...” Clarke started, her fingers toying with the frayed edges of the fabric on the back of the couch, “I made a mistake, I'm sorry.”

“Hm?” Lexa didn't look up from the papers spread out on her desk.

“Earlier...when we were reviewing the plan to go into _Azgeda_ ,” Clarke elaborated. “What I _said_.”

Lexa was silent, but Clarke could tell she wasn't reading anymore. She didn't ask for further explanation so it seemed that Lexa had noticed her wording mishap and just covered it well.

She knew what would come next. Something like “it was careless, Clarke,” or “mistakes like that are costly, Clarke”.

But she was wrong.

Lexa looked up at her. “You were strong in that room. You carried yourself well. You handled the lieutenants with respect and authority. You were able to have Mara see reason. Your skills grow quickly,” the corner of her mouth tugged up, “as I knew they would.”

It was like she said that last part to herself.

Lexa set down the papers in her hands and leaned back pensively.

“Leadership is not what you _do_ , Clarke, it's who you _are_. I saw this in you from the very moment we met. You were meant to stand before people and guide them as you did today. You were not wrong, _we_ will resolve this conflict with _Azgeda_ , there is nothing to apologize for.”

She wasn't about to let it go that easily. Lexa was willing to let her off the hook, but this wasn't what they had agreed to. She crossed a line they set, crossed the boundaries they had set as two people working together politically and two people sharing a bed.

“I shouldn't have presumed--”

Lexa stood up in one swift movement and stepped away from her desk. She clasped her hands behind her back as she looked down thoughtfully for a moment.

“I wasn't going to bring this up yet. I wanted to wait until things are more settled after _Azgeda_ , but I suppose it seems necessary to talk about it sooner.” She took a deep breath. “I have been considering something for a time now...”

She looked up at Clarke again.

“Gustus was my chief adviser and I have not yet replaced him. Typically, _Heda_ relies on advice from council in several areas, but in the recent upheaval, I have advisers, but there is no one I believe trustworthy enough to appoint to a real position. There are still many who have betrayed me and would perhaps betray me again. Only time will reveal their true nature, but I still need someone. Someone who is intuitive, intelligent, and strong – someone that I know will act in the best interest of not just for me, but for all of our people.”

Clarke nodded. “Of course. Do you have someone in mind?”

Lexa gaze was heavy and penetrating. “You.”

Clarke's mind went blank.

Her heart was thudding painfully against her chest, but she could not think, much less speak, a coherent word. She just stared at her.

“ _You_ as my Chief of Counsel, Clarke. It would mean you become my right hand. Second in power only to me. You would be able to seek out others, those you trust, and build your own circle of advisers...informants...contacts – however you see fit to name them. It won't be a difficult task for since you have already begun.”

“What...what are you talking about?” she said thickly, her tongue feeling swollen and foreign in her mouth. She couldn't believe this was happening, that _Lexa_ was saying this, that they had reached this point. Clarke didn't even believe this was a point they could reach at all, let alone _now_.

“Enock,” Lexa replied simply. “You picked him after only knowing him for a day – not even that. You believed him trustworthy and you brought him to _Polis..._ before you really even had a _right_ to.” She chuckled. “He didn't come because I ordered it, Clarke. He came because of you. He followed _you_. Now he's been working with your mother, the Chancellor of Sky People, to bring together our people in new ways. You plucked him out of his life in his small village, in relative anonymity, and placed him in a position of great importance all based on one thing – your instinct.”

“T-that's...that's totally different--” she stuttered.

“And Ford? You have not garnered her allegiance as well?”

Clarke threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don't even know her!”

“Yet, she follows you as well. You inspire people, Clarke, and I am one of them.”

She was speechless for a moment, just staring at her, until she rolled her eyes – almost as if to push away the entire notion of this ludicrousness.

“No one would take me seriously,” she said with a wave of her hand. “They'll think you did it because of... _us_. Making your _niron_ your Chief of Counsel is probably one of the worst political moves you could make, Lexa.”

“That is what they will see in the beginning,” she agreed, “but you will show them otherwise.”

“ _Is it_ because of us?” Clarke pressed suspiciously. “Because of...”

She stopped because she didn't quite know how to finish that. Was this Lexa's way of trying to make sure she would stay? Did she think that this is what Clarke needed in order to stay in _Polis_ with her? Was Lexa worried she would leave? Had Clarke not given her enough to make her see that she would never leave her?

Lexa sighed and stepped towards her with palms open in supplication.

“I'm not one to place reliance on feelings, Clarke. Not in politics. Not in war. But your instincts guide you well, just as you showed me with Octavia after the missiles. You told me that it was _because_ you were close to her, that's how you knew where her loyalty resided. You also had faith in Bellamy's loyalty and determination, all of which was rightly placed. He succeeded in his mission and took down the acid fog. Clarke, I don't trust easily, it's something I can't afford to do often, but I trust _you_. I believe in _you_.”

Clarke inhaled sharply.

Lexa was standing directly in front of her now. She looked as if she wanted to take Clarke into her arms, but she didn't. She held herself those few inches away and instead gripped the wood of the back of the couch. Her gaze darted away for a moment as Clarke blinked, trying to take it all in. Finally she looked back, meeting Clarke's eyes.

“That day at the lake...what we spoke of...” She spoke slowly and carefully, each word pressing inexorably into Clarke's ribs, slipping inside her chest, crushing her with something not unlike fear, but so much closer to a stirring of hope. “I have thought about this a great deal and I think that perhaps you were right that day. Perhaps it _is_ possible...if we work together to achieve it. _Together_ , Clarke, I think that we could be a force strong enough to change the old ways enough to bring about a real, lasting peace. I _need_ you.”

Clarke's mouth had gone dry with the weight of it.

It was utterly humbling to hear how absolute Lexa's belief in her was, humbling and _overwhelming_. She'd never had someone place so much faith in her before. Not just having expectations to fit the mold she believed was right as they did on the Ark. Like her mother, like Wells, like Finn, like Bellamy... They wanted her to do what _they_ believed was right, but didn't have the strength to do themselves. They needed her to do it for them, to know better, to be what they could not.

But Lexa... Lexa was so different. She gave her unwavering support, pushing Clarke past what she thought she was capable of, and yet she never expected her to bear the weight alone. They shouldered the burden equally, playing off each other, united, alternating in spaces where one strength was better than the other. _Kindred_ was the only word Clarke could think of to describe the feeling between them in those first few weeks. Lexa was there with her every step of the way. Until the one time she wasn't.

But that would never happen again. She believed with all her heart that it wouldn't. Even if her head told her that was dangerously foolish to do so.

Lexa saw a future for Clarke of Clarke's own design. It was not the typical selfish attitude she'd experienced from people her whole life of 'what can you do for me?' but rather with Lexa it was 'what can we do together'. Clarke and Lexa wouldn't always agree, but Lexa never insulted her or cut her down or demeaned her for having a different point of view. Instead, she viewed it as a challenge, and challenges made better leaders. Respect. Admiration. _Belief_.

She loved Lexa for believing in her, but that belief also came with such overwhelming responsibility and the likelihood of failure... Well, it was all but guaranteed. Clarke didn't think she could ever bear the shame of knowing that she'd failed Lexa.

“I...I don't even know anything about the clans,” she stammered dumbly.

“You will learn.”

“The people will reject me,” Clarke tried again, scrambling for any reason, _all the reasons_ , why this was a terrible, terrible idea.

Because it was.

“The clan leaders, the ambassadors, the generals, the lieutenants, they'll be furious.”

“There will be resistance at first, yes, but I know you will show them their judgment in error. Already, you have earned more respect in such a short time than anyone else would in your place.”

Clarke wanted to scream.

Instead, she settled for wild hands flying and a strained voice. “ _Lexa_ ,” she stressed, shaking her head in utter incredulity, “you can't make one of the _Skaikru_ your Chief of Counsel!”

Lexa was cool and calm, her face impassive with her hands clasped lightly in front of her. She was a stark contrast to Clarke's frenetic, passionate energy exploding from every corner.

“I can."

Clarke just gaped at her, trying to take it all in. “I...” She looked around the room, searching for something, searching for the words to explain. “I don't know if _I_ can though.”

“I understand,” Lexa said gently, as if she expected it. “Take some time, think about it, then give me your answer when you are ready. I know you will worry what this means about your loyalty to your people, Clarke, but you are bigger than them. We have a chance here to not just make things stable, but to effect change on a fundamental level for all of us. You have a unique strength, Clarke, a strength that is hard to find and a mind capable of great things. You are meant for more than just leading the Sky People. Work with me, _be with me_ , help me find a better way for all of our people – to change this world for the better.”

Clarke's knees felt weak and she gripped the couch tightly. She was slowly resigning herself to the fact that Lexa had actually asked her to do this.

“You really have that much faith in me?” she said in a quiet sort of wonder.

Lexa smiled. “All that and more.”

* * *

“Clarke, she won't stop.”

“What?” she mumbled, still half asleep.

“She keeps yelling. I am tempted to throw it out the window right now.”

Clarke turned in Lexa's arms, moaning sleepily, as she nuzzled into her throat. “Who's yelling?” she muttered. “Why aren't you asleep?”

That's when she heard it. Faint, but clear.

“ _CLARKE GRIFFIN, IF YOU HEAR ME, ANSWER NOW!_ ”

Definitely Raven.

“Unbelievable...” she groaned.

Ever since Clarke radioed her a month ago, in a not so demure manner, Raven thought it was absolutely hilarious to hail Clarke over the sound waves in the same way: yelling like the world was going to end.

The first three times, Clarke answered in a panic, truly believing there was something wrong, but all she received was Raven's hysterical laughter on the other end. Infuriated, Clarke would chastise her for being so flip. There was nothing remotely humorous about it for her, not in their world, but Raven disagreed and said it was payback. Every time she'd called in the last month, it was just to chat and update Clarke on the routine at Arkadia.

“I am not getting out of this bed,” she said stubbornly.

Lexa groaned. “She has been shouting obscenities for the last three minutes. Either you answer or I break that thing.”

“Not getting out of bed.”

“Fine.” Lexa lightly pushed her off and flung off the blankets, storming out of the room.

Clarke was still half asleep, but some part of her realized that she might have just given Lexa permission to smash her radio to bits.

“Lexa, don't break it,” she whined.

Raven's voice grew louder and louder until it was right in the room with her. Lexa held the radio out in front of her uncomfortably between her index finger and thumb, like it was some highly explosive device.

“ _CLARKE, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD TURN OFF THE FUCKING RADIO. WERE YOU ALWAYS THIS STUPID? BECAUSE THAT'S THE ONLY REASON I CAN THINK OF FOR YOU TAKING THIS LONG!_ ”

“She sounds pleasant,” Lexa said dryly.

“You'll like her, don't worry.”

“This is Raven?”

Clarke nodded tiredly, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I can't believe she's screaming at me in the middle of the night.”

“It must be important.”

“Two weeks ago she yelled like this and it was only to tell me about the new hybrid seed she developed with Monty,” Clarke grumbled. “As in _farming_!”

Arkadia was well protected and well stocked. Now that they'd joined the Coalition as the 13th clan, the only thing that threatened them was a war with the Ice Nation – which Clarke was working with Lexa and Mara to stop. Even as her usual joke, there was no reason she could fathom that would justify Raven Reyes shouting at her at this hour of the night. Was she drunk? She sounded like she could be drunk.

No. Knowing Raven, she was probably stone sober while everyone else was drunk and thought it would be the perfect time to prank Clarke...again!

“You answer her,” Clarke said.

“Me?” Lexa gawped.

“Yes, _you_ ,” she shot back. “I showed you how to use it. Might as well practice.”

Lexa was still highly unconvinced. “She's asking for you though.”

“Lexa, just _try_ ,” Clarke groaned. “Or do you want her to keep us up all night?”

Glowering at her, Lexa grudgingly agreed, and she brought the radio closer, examining it for a moment, then she found the button Clarke had shown her.

“You are speaking to the Commander,” she said stiltedly.

There was no reply.

“You have to take your finger off it,” Clarke mumbled. She'd laid back down on the pillows and was about to doze off at any given moment.

“Oh, right.”

“ _Where's Clarke?_ ”

Lexa frowned, awkwardly pushing the button again, and lifted the radio to her mouth. “She is asleep. What is it that cannot wait until the sun has risen?”

“ _I'm not talking to you. Get Clarke. Now!_ ”

“I hate her!” Clarke whined from where she had her face buried in the pillows.

Lexa held the radio out to her with a shrug. “And I had such high hopes for our friendship.”

Clarke smacked the mattress before grabbing the radio.

“For fuck's sake, Raven, it's nearly dawn! Why are you doing this to me?”

_"We've got a huge problem here."_

“What'd you do this time?” Clarke had her head buried under her pillow again. “Crash one of the convoys? Start a fire in the mess hall? Drink your weight in Monty's moonshine?”

Lexa was pouring herself some water and Clarke heard her yawn, once again reminded of the long day they had ahead of them and how their precious few hours of sleep had been cut even shorter because of this call.

“ _People are going to die, Clarke. Remember when that happens? Or are you too busy getting laid in Wonderland to remember that the rest of us are still living in the real world?_ ”

It was a shot of ice water in her veins. Clarke stilled for a moment, her heart racing, creeping into her ears. She shook her head, trying to wake herself for real now. The sickening creep of dread was taking over her, paralyzing her.

_No._

_Not again._

_Please. Not again._

 


	41. Old Habits

“What are you talking about?” Clarke rasped.

She was having trouble catching her breath.

Lexa returned at once with a grim look, hovering over her as she listened intently.

“ _Are you alone now?_ ”

“It's safe to talk.”

“ _Clarke, I'm not kidding. You need to be alone._ ”

She met Lexa's eyes, and when she didn't respond right away, Lexa lowered her gaze in acknowledgment and started to turn towards the door to give Clarke her privacy.

“Wait.”

Lexa's hand stopped in midair as she reached for the door handle.

Clarke sat up straight, clutching the radio tightly in her hand.

Her hesitation was simply old habits kicking back in. She felt herself slipping into the girl who was alone against the world, fighting a war with children as her soldiers against a faceless and brutal enemy. She felt the doors closing in on herself as every nerve in her body rose to answer Raven's call for help, but she stopped them just in time.

She didn't realize it until now. All the times Lexa had repeated it, sworn it, breathed it, Clarke never once returned it. Because she wasn't ready before. She wasn't ready until this very moment when she was faced with a crisis of her people alone once again. She didn't _have_ to be alone.

“I trust you too...Lexa.”

She stood still by the door, not turning around just yet.

“Am I wrong to do that?” she asked quietly. “If...if what Raven is about to tell me goes against your people, changes things somehow...will you betray me again?”

Lexa turned around at once, her eyes glistening and dark. “I won't.”

“Then stay. If you want that partnership, if you want us to work together to change things, there can't be sides anymore. It is _our_ side. _Our_ people. _Us_.”

Lexa nodded solemnly. “I am with you.”

Clarke nodded, mostly to herself, and took a deep breath to steady herself. Lexa came back and seated herself on the bed next to Clarke, her hands folded in her lap as she prepared to listen.

Clarke lifted the radio again, but her hand was steadier this time. “Raven, whatever you have to say, she's going to hear it too. Tell me what's happening.”

“ _You don't understand. I can't.”_

“I give you my word that whatever you tell me right now, we're safe,” she said calmly. “Please, Raven. What happened?”

Raven was quiet for a moment, probably cursing Clarke's existence, but then her tinny voice sounded out again.

“ _Kane lost the election.”_

"What? How is that even possible? Who...?"  
  
" _Pike._ "  
  
Clarke's eyes widened incredulously. She must have heard that wrong. Some staticky interference with the connection. Because that was...that was a visual she couldn't even begin to form in her head.

"Pike? _Charles Pike_? As in, the level 3 Earth Skills teacher that made me yawn so hard in his class that I almost dislocated my jaw, Pike?"

Raven didn't have the patience to hold Clarke's hand through her incredulity and just continued. “ _The minute it was announced that he won the election today, his first order was to send a message to the Commander. To tell her that the Sky People reject the Coalition. He's declared war on the Grounders. She'll probably get that message in a few hours from a rider,”_ there was a beat and then, bitterly, “ _but I guess I just delivered it anyway...”_

“I don't understand.” Clarke pressed her forehead into her palm, trying to process all of it. “Why would they risk the peace of the last eight months? Things have been stable for our people for the longest time since we've reached the ground!”

_“Farm station had it rough. They changed too. Just...not the way we did. They hate all Grounders. Pike has been gathering support for a while now. I didn't think it was a big deal at first, just a lot of chatter, but your mom hasn't been here and neither has Kane. Pike and his crew have been spreading rumors of Grounder attacks, scaring people, making them angry. I thought it would pass...”_

Clarke was listening intently, but it wasn't until she set down the radio to pull her shirt over her head that she realized she had gotten out of bed and was getting dressed, ready to run out that door any second.

Old habits.

“ _Yesterday, he faked an attack on a patrol group outside the walls. He made it look like Grounders killed two of our people, but I think he killed them himself. He's been saying all along how we can't trust the Grounders and, after yesterday, enough people believe him. I didn't know how bad it was, how many people he'd gotten to, until I accidentally overheard them on the comms earlier. That's why I'm calling you now. It's bad, Clarke.”_

Clarke's throat tightened. “Where's my mom? Kane?"  
  
_"His second order was to arrest Kane for treason because of the brand he took from the Commander. He was thrown into lock up. Octavia and Lincoln are in the cell with him. All Grounders in the camp were rounded up and jailed too. Pike said Octavia was too much like them to be considered one of us anymore.”_

Kane, Octavia, and Lincoln in lock up... Clarke couldn't even wrap her head around it. She sat down on the couch and laced up her boots. Lexa was standing now too, pacing in a straight line with her hands clasped fiercely behind her back. _  
  
_ "Where's my mom, Raven?" Clarke asked tersely, trying desperately to keep her voice in control. _  
  
"Abby's playing along with Pike's rules. She's trying to keep him from executing the Grounder prisoners.”  
  
_ " _Executing_ them?” Clarke echoed, horrified.

Lexa froze, Clarke saw it out of the corned of her eye, but she couldn't afford to look at Lexa right now. _  
  
_ "How did this happen? How could they vote for someone who would do this?"  
  
_"You're not here, Clarke. You have no idea what these people have become. Look, I don't have much more time, I'm being watched. If I don't go back out soon, Pike's groupies are going to notice. I tried to warn Abby yesterday, but she said they had to hold the election anyway, that the people had a right to choose. She hasn't been here because she was working with the Grounder healers. She underestimated the hold Pike has. So did Kane.”_

“Wait. Stop. This doesn't make any sense!”

“ _Clarke, there's no time! You have to come back. We need you and Bellamy. Pike's getting ready to attack a village tomorrow night – he says it's payback for the attack on our patrol, but only a few of us know that it was really him behind the attack._ ”

“Bellamy can't help, Raven," she said dully. "He was banished. They'll kill him if he goes back to Arkadia.”

“ _Well, we can't stop him alone! There's not enough of us.”_

Clarke desperately tried to process all of this, her mind a flurry until she managed to latch onto something. “Hold on, why would Pike attack a random village?”

Raven's crackly sigh filled the room. “ _It's not random. He cherry picked it. Farm Station people say the soil there is prime grade. They can grow whatever they need there. The village is in the way. This has been his plan all along. He wants to wipe out the Grounders and take control. He has this idea of cleansing the Earth – that we're the ones who belong here and the Grounders are just mutated after effects of radiation. He thinks we were meant to come back and repopulate the earth with our people. No more Grounders.”_

Clarke jumped to her feet in an instant. “That's _insane_!” she yelled into the radio.

Raven wasn't fazed. _“He hasn't let everyone in on his demented fantasies of ethnic cleansing yet, but he's generated enough hatred for the Grounders to convince plenty of people that we deserve more land to expand Arkadia. That's where he's starting and people are following.”_

Clarke was slack jawed for a moment before she recovered and clutched the walkie tightly. “Who's with you, Raven? Who knows the truth?”

“ _Your Mom knows, obviously, but Pike has guards watching her every move. Kane, Lincoln, and Octavia, but they're in lock up. So that leaves us with Jasper, Harper, Miller, and Monroe."_

“Monty?”

“ _His Mom is Farm Station.”_

Clarke groaned.

“ _Clarke...I don't know what to do. But I know that if Pike goes after those people tomorrow night, we're as good as dead. The Grounders will never forgive us. Your girlfriend that's listening right now is going to wipe us out in retaliation_.”

“You have to take out Pike.”

“ _Don't you think we've thought of that already?”_ Raven snapped. _“He's got guards surrounding him 24/7. No one can get close to him.”_

“I'm going to figure this out. I'll...I'll come back. I'll talk to Pike. Try to make him see reason.”

_"We are so freaking past that, Clarke!”_

“You can't,” Lexa said, startling Clarke. She'd been so quiet, so focused up until this point.

“Raven, hold on.” Clarke lowered the radio, finally bringing herself to meet Lexa's gaze.

Lexa's eyes were dark and her mouth formed a thin, firm line. She stepped forward with a shake of her head and said, “If what Raven says is true, then it is already war, and you've been living with the enemy. You can't just stroll past the gates as if nothing has changed. They will see you as an outsider, as a _threat_. If it were me, I would kill you on the spot.”

Clarke exhaled, taking that in with a slow nod. After a beat, she brought the radio back up. “Raven, how tight is security? How many people does Pike have?”

“ _Arkadia is one step away from being the Sky Box. No one in or out. As for people...I don't know...most of them have been scared into following him. And he's the Chancellor now so even if they disagree, they don't have a choice. Farm Station brought in about 60 survivors. Everyone there is hardcore loyal to Pike. Clarke...you can't reason with this guy. Abby has been doing everything in her power to keep him from just shooting the Grounders that were guests in Arkadia. Half of them are in jail, the rest are in the med bay because Pike's people beat them so badly. You won't even be able to set a foot in here before they riddle you with bullets.”_  
  
"But not everyone agrees with Pike! I know they don't!”

“ _They're too confused and too scared to see reason. He's got everyone terrified for their lives thinking we're going to be attacked again. Clarke...we need help."_  
  
"The raid...you said it's tomorrow night? Where? Which village?"  
  
_"We think it's in Sector 3."_  
  
Clarke had no idea what she was talking about. What the hell was Sector 3?

Raven groaned. _"I don't have the exact coordinates on hand at the moment. We've been mapping out the land, but that's our best guess.”_  
  
"No guesses,” she said firmly. “Find out exactly where it is and get back to me. We have to stop them. If they attack that village...they'll break the Coalition. The clans will destroy us."  
  
_"How are you going to stop them?"_  
  
Clarke looked at Lexa whose face was grim with her jaw clenched fiercely.  
  
"We'll figure something out. Just find out where they're going."  
  
_"Bellamy?"_  
  
"He's not an option.”  
  
_"So tag you're "it" again, huh, Princess?"_  
  
"Raven...I'm going to help you. I promise. I will fix this."  
  
_"I have to go. Keep this frequency open, I jammed it so that Pike won't be able to stumble across it. I'll try back as soon as I can. If not me, it'll be one of the others.”_  
  
“Roger that.”  
  
Clarke was about to set the walkie down when Raven's voice sounded out again with some hesitation.

“ _Clarke...you can't trust her.”_

It was clear who Raven was talking about, but they didn't have time for this and Clarke wasn't going to debate it.  
  
“This isn't about her.”  
  
“ _Like hell it isn't! The last time we trusted her, Finn died and I got strapped to a table in Mount Weather with a drill in my hip!”_  
  
Raven knew how to make it hurt. She always did. It was like a blade across her skin, a swift, clean cut, but Clarke forced the pain to dull and pushed it away as best she could. Those memories wouldn't help either of them.

“Then don't trust her,” Clarke said. “Trust me.”  
  
_"If I had a choice, I wouldn't be asking you for anything, let alone trusting you!”_ Raven snarled. _“You are the reason why she was able to betray us in the first place. You joined up with her!"_  
  
Clarke gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, blowing out a heavy breath.  
  
“ _You_ are the one who called me to ask for my help,” she snapped. “You don't get to play the blame game now. You want to fix this? You want to save our people from getting slaughtered? Suck it up. Shit happened and we're moving on. Things are different now.”  
  
_"Fine,” Raven said shortly, “but you better come up with something fucking brilliant to get us out of this mess."_

There was a long pause after that. Clarke didn't even know how to respond to the level of rage in Raven's voice. But eventually she spoke again, and it was softer this time - deflated.

“ _I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Things are really messed up right now and I'm...I'm scared, Clarke.”_

She sounded so tired.

“ _It was supposed to be better. We were supposed to be safe. I thought it was...I let myself start to believe it.”_

The last words were barely a whisper and it broke Clarke's heart to hear Raven this way...defeated and so terribly sad.

“I know... It _is_ better now though,” she insisted. “This isn't how it's going to be. I won't let it. You're not alone, Raven, I promise. Tell everyone to keep their heads down, don't draw any attention to yourselves. Get me the location of the village and keep me posted on any new developments. I'll figure this out.”

Raven seemed to gather back up the courage that had left her for that fleeting moment and she sounded more like her usual self again. Determined. Stubborn. Ready to fight.

“ _On it. One of us will contact you within the hour to give you a meeting point. See you soon, Clarke.”_

Clarke set the radio down. It was silent at long last.

* * *

The room was quiet save for the sound of their shared breathing. Clarke sat back down on the couch with her face in her hands, taking deep, gulping breaths as she tried to come to grips with this wracking change that was about to upend her world.

 _Their_ world.

“I'll call for the army to march on Arkadia,” Lexa said, breaking the silence. She moved to her bureau to start getting dressed as well. “We'll move quickly since they are already gathered here in _Polis_.”

“Wait, I--”

“The raid must be stopped,” she said coldly, an edge to her voice that unnerved Clarke. “By any means necessary.”

“Lexa, you can't--”

“No harm will come to those who chose to stay behind, if that is your concern.” She pulled on her pants and started to button up her commander's coat, her back to Clarke. “It is the guilty that concern me. If this Pike succeeds in attacking a _Trikru_ village...it will set us all on a path we cannot stop.”

“ _We_ aren't going to be doing anything,” Clarke said.

Lexa stopped halfway through the buttons and turned around. She didn't need to ask the question, her face did it for her.

Clarke had her arms resting on her knees, leaning forward, staring ahead at nothing in particular, but Lexa could see her mind racing.

“You can't go to Arkadia,” Clarke said.

She held up a hand to stop Lexa as she stepped towards her, ready to argue with her.

“You _know_ you can't,” Clarke said calmly. “You have to go with Mara into _Azgeda_. Delaying those plans any longer could ruin the advantage you have right now. I have to do this on my own.”

“No.”

Clarke looked up sharply. “Excuse me?”

“This is a direct threat to my people. I cannot allow--”

“ _Our_ people,” she cut in.

Lexa didn't let that deter her. “I won't allow them to do this.”

“And you think I will?” she snapped.

“It is not your decision," she said coolly.

“I will handle this, Lexa!” Clarke got to her feet. “I'll stop the raid and get them under control. I can make them understand--”

Lexa interrupted her, stepping forward with her jaw clenched. “ _I_ will make them understand what it means to threaten me.”

Clarke could see the change, the shift in the way she held herself, the cold blaze of fury in her eyes, the edge in her voice – she was the Commander Clarke walked into that tent to meet for the first time. _Heda_.

But just ask Clarke had stopped herself from slipping back into her role as the leader of her people alone, she needed Lexa to realize that she was slipping back as well. Old habits were hard to break, but hell if they weren't going to break them.

“So all that talk about being partners was a bunch of bullshit then?”

Lexa blanched ever so slightly, turning her body away almost guilty.

“You stood over there just a few hours ago and practically begged me to be your Chief of Counsel. Now that it's real, now that we're being tested, all that goes away? You said you had faith in me.”

“I do, Clarke, but this is too soon. I intended for that to happen months from now, if not years. We need time to secure our bond with the Sky People before I could even think of introducing the idea of you as--”

“Well, time isn't a luxury we have right now,” she said acerbically.

Lexa folded her arms across her chest. “Clarke, if you fail and the people discover that I sent a member of _Skaikru_ to prevent it?” She shook her head. “There's no coming back from that. You will be killed and I will never regain control. The Coalition will fall and chaos will reign once more.”

Clarke could see where she was coming from, but it didn't shake her. She could stop this. She had to. There was no other choice. If she didn't prevent Pike from taking action that would rip apart this tentative peace, all of them would be wiped out by the clans.

“I won't fail,” she insisted. “Lexa, this is exactly what we need to do together. By doing it _apart_.” She took a deep breath. “Answer me honestly, if it were another clan making a threat, you would delegate this. You would send someone else, like Indra, or if they were still here, Gustus and Anya, to take care of it. But now you're insisting on going yourself? When you're on the brink of war with an entire nation?”

She narrowed her eyes at the implication. “You know very well that the threat _Skaikru_ pose is different than that of the other clans.”

“Even still. You don't want me to go because you think I'll side with them,” she said accusingly.

Lexa didn't even attempt to deny it.

“You will do everything you can for your people,” she said stiffly. “I know you will.”

“Yes,” Clarke nodded, “I will do everything I can to protect them. But I will also try to find a way that benefits us all. That's what you asked me to do and that's what I'm going to do. I'll be damned if I'll let Pike and his groupies destroy what we're trying to build here. It's not about Sky People versus the Grounders. It's _one_ man lying and scaring a bunch of traumatized people. I'm going to stop him and you're going to have to trust me, Lexa. It's sooner than you hoped, but you don't have a choice.”

Lexa looked like she wanted to argue, but she kept her mouth shut tightly, clenching her jaw.

Clarke was right. She was letting her personal feelings get in the way. Clarke was their best chance at stopping any violence from escalating. Anyone else that Lexa would send would end bloody and raise tension between the groups higher than ever before. Even if Lexa did go...what could she do that would be so different? Her presence would likely only serve to make the situation even more heightened.

No...she was needed elsewhere. Clarke would have to do this without her.

Lexa relented at long last, releasing the tension in her body with a slow exhale, and Clarke closed her eyes in relief.

“You cannot go back alone,” Lexa said quietly. “Not without protection. They will kill you. Even Raven made that clear.”

“I can't take an army with me,” Clarke replied. “That will just mean an all out bloody battle. My people don't trust the Grounders and I'm going to return with an army of them?” she scoffed. “That's not the answer.”

“So the answer is you walking in unprotected with the foolish hope that you might be accepted back in? He has already killed two of your people to further his plans and imprisoned Octavia just for the crime of adapting to our ways. This is not a man who can be reasoned with and it's not up for debate - you _will_ have protection.”

“It will only make things worse!”

“I'll give you some of my best warriors--”

“Your _best warriors_ are being led by Indra to carry out the mission to find the Elders,” Clarke shot back knowingly.

“A few can be replaced,” Lexa tried to reason, “it will not--”

“Lexa, stop,” she said gently and stepped towards her, but still kept enough space between them to be steady. “When I said we needed to be partners, I meant it. This has to go _both_ ways. We need to do what is best for everyone, not just sacrificing one for the other. We _can_ do both. What's happening with the Mara and the Elders needs to be taken care of and only you can do that. Just like I'm the one who can stop this raid and bring my people back from this brink.”

Lexa's gaze never left hers. “Then we must come up with something else because you going alone is not an option.”

Clarke sighed, knowing she was right. She glanced around the room, trying desperately to think of what to do, how to stop her people from getting themselves massacred. A flash of movement caught her eye and she snapped her head towards the looking glass mounted on the wall and saw her reflection staring back at her.

_'Do you remember when we first saw them? The masks? The black paint? I couldn't separate it in my head.'_

Clarke ran up to the glass, inspecting herself carefully.

_'Inhuman. Savages. They weren't real.'_

She knew what she had to do.

Clarke spun around to face Lexa again.

“Give me Aden.”

Lexa was clearly not prepared for that, befuddlement written all over her face.

“ _Aden_? Why?”

“You haven't assigned him yet, right?”

“No, not yet, but he's untested and unprepared for--”

“If he's ready to be a Second, he's ready to help me, Lexa.”

She set her jaw tightly, trying to remain in control of her emotions. “Why him?”

“It's something Bellamy said to me. My people fear what is different. The braids, the long hair, the tattoos, masks, and war paint. It makes you seem less real to them because you don't _look_ like them. We all grew up on the Ark, we all look the same and have the same history. We're not used to new things or new people.”

“People that don't _look_ like you,” Lexa repeated slowly, nodding in realization, “and Aden has cropped hair and a clean shaven face with no visible markings.”

“He doesn't look as weather worn as the others. He could pass for one of the Sky People.” She paused before admitting, “Not for long...but long enough.”

“Long enough to do what...exactly?” Lexa inquired.

“Sneak in and stop Pike. Whether that means subduing him or... _eliminating_ him...” Clarke swallowed thickly, the words feeling awkward and foreign in her mouth, “I will make sure that raid never happens. I can make my people see reason when I expose him for who he really is.”

“You and Aden will do this alone?” Lexa exhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. “That is not a plan, Clarke, that is a death wish.”

“I have people still loyal inside, people who will help us because they don't believe in what Pike is doing. I won't be alone.”

Lexa stared at her for a long moment, turning it over in her mind again and again, before acceding with a slight nod of her head. “You may have Aden.”

“Thank yo--”

“But you cannot take him alone.”

Clarke growled in frustration. “We just went through this!”

“There are others who could disguise themselves to look like they are _Skaikru,”_ Lexa continued stubbornly. “Not enough for an army, but more than just one untested Second, Clarke.”

“Okay. I'll take them,” she agreed quickly, anything to get Lexa on board, “but we have to hurry.”

“It's typically a two day journey to Arkadia, but if you leave in the next few hours and ride hard enough, you could make it there by early light tomorrow.”

Clarke thought about it. Her plan began to take shape the moment she saw herself in the looking glass and now the details were starting to form. “I have to see Bellamy off first. He has no one else right now and the guards will be expecting me anyway. We can't afford to raise the slightest bit of suspicion. The fewer who know about what is happening in Arkadia, the better.”

“I will make the arrangements for your departure. You better go,” Lexa looked out the window, the sky was turning a pale blue as slivers of light started to peak over the horizon, “it is almost dawn.”

Clarke followed her eyes and they both stood there quietly for a moment. Letting all the things unsaid fill the space between them. The view from the window was still hazy with shapes and shadows in various shades of blue as the morning light began to burn off the cool fog of night.

She couldn't bring herself to move. A part of her, a part larger than she wanted to admit, felt like this would be the last time they would be together in this room. When she walked out of here...would she ever find her way back?

“I still haven't seen a sunrise.” Her voice wavered despite herself.

Lexa slowly turned to look at her and when Clarke managed to tear her eyes away from the view of mountains and the city, she found Lexa's piercing gaze waiting for her.

“There will be time yet.”

Clarke didn't know if she believed her.

* * *

He was still.

Clarke thought he would be full of bravado, hiding behind a facade of cockiness, quips, smirking in that boyishly arrogant way that certainly got him out of trouble more than a few times in his life, but he wasn't. He stood there calmly, soberly, arms braced against his sides – the slings forgotten.

His hair was clean and longer than ever, but it was a mass of curls. Dark, floppy curls in every which direction, falling over his eyes and nearly obscured his view.

But she could still see them, those mournful brown puppy dog eyes that she both adored and despised.

“She's not coming is she?”

Clarke didn't give anything away other than a true look of sympathy. She didn't feel the least bit guilty about lying to him – withholding the truth anyway – because she was saving his life. If he knew what was happening in Arkadia and Octavia...she wouldn't be able to stop him.

“She loves you, Bellamy.”

He grinned ruefully. “I think this is the first time I'm going to thank you for lying.”

Clarke tensed at that, but recovered quickly without him noticing a thing.

“Do you have it?”

The map.

He tapped his fingers over his chest.

“Small hole in the lining,” he explained. “Good enough to slip more than just a piece of paper in there if necessary.”

They gave him his jacket back, the one the guards wore on the Ark.

It would make him a walking target a mile away, Clarke thought.

He would need to get rid of it as soon as possible, steal another if he couldn't find something to trade for it. That jacket meant he was good as dead – which is probably what they were hoping by giving it to him. But it wasn't like they would give a traitor, a condemned and exiled man, one of their valuable, heavy, hand woven winter coats.

She didn't say any of this because Bellamy already knew.

One of the sentries stepped in.

“ _Wanheda, taim don kom op.”_

_It is time._

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile at Bellamy.

“Ready?”

“As I'll ever be.”

They walked in silence down the corridor, side by side. The sentries sandwiched them, two in front, two behind. Clarke looked straight ahead. So did Bellamy.

They stopped in front of a large door that led outside. She could hear the soft clamor of the crowd outside. It didn't seem like a big one, just enough people to form a mob though. They had dragged themselves out of bed before sunrise just to watch the _Skaikru_ traitor exiled.

The sentries were busy gathering their things and a few had slipped outside to make sure the crowd was under control and clear a path for them.

“I can't go out there with you.”

He nodded. “I know - can't be seen with the guy who tried to kill the Commander.”

Clarke forced back the wave of anger that surged, clamping it down quickly and viciously. She didn't need that right now.

A few loud thumps from outside the door startled them, but it was just the guards giving the all clear.

Her heart started to race and the sound of a ticking clock, the one she heard in the movies they watched on the Ark, echoed in her ears. Faster and faster. Time was slipping away and in mere moments this boy would be gone.

“Be safe,” she said. “Be smart. Stay alive.”

He didn't seem to hear her, too lost in his own thoughts. “Maybe it's a good thing this happened,” he mused.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

He sounded strange and there was something - something she couldn't place - that was unnerving her.

“Some good could come out of this mess.” Bellamy shrugged. 

“What are you--?”

She was cut off by his arms surrounding her, embracing her tightly.

The guards were opening the door, the clamor of the crowd swept over them, but Clarke was hidden safely in the shadows, far back enough not to be seen.

His voice was low and gravelly against her ear. “Looks like you might need an inside man for this war.”

Fear froze her veins and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

_He couldn't..._

_He wouldn't._

“Don't you dare! No! No, Bellamy! Don't even think--!”

He kissed the side of her head and ripped himself out of her clutches, stepping into the soft light of the dawn, letting the sentries take hold of him. His eyes never left Clarke.

“Tell my sister we _will_ meet again.”

“Bellamy!” she cried frantically, her arms stretched out towards him, but she couldn't take another step or she would be seen as well.

She never should have told him about Azgeda! How could she be so foolish? She should have known better. She knew him. She should have seen this coming, known that this is what he would do like the stubborn asshole that he was.

“Just stay alive! I'll find you, I swear! Don't do this!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Bellamy had already made up him mind - his eyes were steel and his jaw was set firmly. He met her gaze with a hard nod before finally turning around to walk forward, the guards flanked him protectively as he was led into the angry mob. Clarke was unbearably helpless, trapped in the shadows inside the stronghold, as she watched that mop of dark curls and the insignia of the Ark on the back of his jacket be swallowed into the throng of people.

Her mouth was open in a silent cry, but when the remaining sentries closed the door, muffling the noise once more, and leaving them with torchlight instead of the weak, pale blue light of morning, she spun around and knocked over a table with a roar, sending its objects flying, clattering onto the wooden floor along with the heavy thud.

Breathing hard, Clarke screamed again, smashing whatever looked breakable beneath her feet, before she finally had enough and stumbled away from the wreckage. She didn't spare a glance for the guards watching her in silence and instead just left as quickly as her feet would move, barreling through the maze of hallways with her hands clenched into fists.

She couldn't save him now.

 


	42. Sentaim Ai

“Harper contacted me,” Clarke said as she strode into the war chambers and made a beeline for the long table where they always had a huge map of the 12 -- now 13...perhaps it was 12 again – clans and their villages.

It was the most comprehensive survey of the land that anyone had, passed down and added to and redrawn again and again with each Commander. Once all was said and done, Clarke hoped to be able to give Arkadia a copy of it so she didn't have to hear about their “sectors” ever again.

“Here,” she pointed to a small dot with a fine script written next to it with the village's name. “10 miles outside of Arkadia, west, below TonDC.”

Lexa and Indra peered down at the village Clarke had her finger next to. Indra swore in _Trigedasleng_ , some words so foul that Clarke had never heard them before, but she could guess the meaning before storming away to a group of people standing off to the side. Lexa seemed impassive, but Clarke knew better. She could feel Lexa's rage thrumming beneath her skin, the fury in her blood. The _Skaikru_ owed their lives to Clarke because she knew Lexa would never let them live if this happened.

If she didn't stop it from happening, that is.

She would.

“We need to talk,” Clarke said lowly.

Lexa needed to know what happened with Bellamy. If they crossed paths...it was better that Lexa be prepared than have Bellamy surprise her again. He wouldn't live a second time.

Lexa nodded, but she tilted her head towards the the group that Indra was speaking intently to.

“First, you must meet those we've selected.”

Clarke agreed, although impatient, and they walked side by side. As Clarke approached the group, Aden was the first she noticed. He was standing stock still with his back ramrod straight, his eyes and ears trained on Indra with perfect concentration, but he still glanced at the two of them out of the corner of his eye for briefest moment.

Clarke looked each of them over carefully. There were twenty in all, but she immediately vetoed half of them for not having the right look to be able to blend in with the Sky People. Two of them weren't entirely fluent in English so they were cut as well. Clarke was left with eight young warriors that she was sure all but one were under the age of 20.

Despite their youth, Lexa and Indra had deemed them worthy to join Clarke on this mission and that was a testament enough. She gave them one last look over, this was going to be her team now, but she lingered on Aden the longest out of curiosity since he was the only one out of them all who dared to make eye contact with her.

He was Lexa's protege even if Lexa refused to admit it. Clarke knew he would be the key to their success.

Five of them were rushed off to have their braids taken out, faces scrubbed, different clothing specifically to hide any body tattoos, hair cleaned and cut, while the rest were set to task by Indra to prepare for the journey.

Then it was just Clarke and Lexa alone in the war chambers.

The moment Raven revealed what was happening in Arkadia, a wall had gone up between them. Clarke didn't know how to break through, to knock it down, to even peek over the top. Lexa didn't want her to do this, she wasn't sure about Clarke's loyalty, and Clarke...Clarke needed to make sure none of her people died for this. Not for Pike. Not for ignorance and fear.

With the briefest words, Clarke relayed what happened with Bellamy and the most she got out of Lexa was a curious raise of her eyebrow.

“I have no right to ask you for anything with him, but I wanted you to know that he's going to try and help. However he thinks he's going to do that...” She exhaled in frustration and shrugged.

Lexa didn't say a word, but her eyes told Clarke that she understood. It would take some time for her to process what was to be done with Bellamy and what his actions would mean – helping them or interfering. Either way, he disobeyed Lexa's ruling and that alone... Well, Clarke knew what that meant. There was nothing she could do about Bellamy now and she had to set it aside. He made his choice and there were more pressing matters that Clarke had to focus on. So she pushed all thoughts of the boy, and the danger he planned to put himself into, out of her head and centered on the task at hand: saving her people.

She couldn't save Bellamy, but there were many more who needed her.

Those in the village, innocent, unwitting, and those trapped in Arkadia with a tyrant.

“Your people are looking for any reason to wipe us out and I won't let Pike give them one,” Clarke said. “If we can get there before nightfall tomorrow, that will give me a window of opportunity to stop Pike and his followers before they leave the gates for the raid.”

Lexa listened calmly as Clarke walked around the chamber in a stark contrast to Lexa's stillness.

“Wouldn't it be easier to ambush them on their way out rather than go through all the trouble of slipping behind the walls?”

“They'll be heavily armed, wearing body armor, and likely taking Raven's convoys. I won't be able to stop them then, but they won't be expecting an attack from their own on the inside. That's my opening.”

“Your opening to... _talk_ to him?”

Clarke knew what she was implying and spun on her. “I'll do what I have to. But if there's an out that means no one gets killed, you know I'm going to take it.”

“What I _know_...is that you will do anything for your people...”

Clarke's eyes narrowed. “After all that you said, all that talk about _trusting me_ and _believing in me_ , you're really going to question--”

Lexa looked down regretfully, squeezing her hands into fists. “I want to make sure that you are prepared to make some hard decisions.”

“I think I've being doing just fine with those _hard_ decisions,” she replied icily.

Lexa closed her eyes and turned away. “Yes. I know.”

“It's sooner than you wanted, but I need to know, Lexa...” Clarke swallowed thickly. “Are you still with me? Like you promised?”

Her eyes flew open at that with alarming speed and she locked onto Clarke with renewed clarity in that bright green.

“ _Ai laik glong op em._ ”

_I am with you._

Lexa took a hesitant step towards her, still not breaching the divide between them, but Clarke could see the edge she was wavering precariously on.

“I just...I...”

Clarke's gaze softened in sudden realization. “You're _worried.”_

Lexa sighed. “I can't be there to protect you,” she admitted forlornly.

Clarke was the one who stepped forward this time. “I'll be okay,” she murmured. “But...I have to go back. I have to fix this. I _can_ fix this. For all of us.”

“I know, Clarke.”

“You need to watch your back with Mara.”

The corner of Lexa's mouth quirked up in amusement. “I thought you said you trusted her.”

“I said I _believed_ her. That's a far cry from trusting her. You were right, she's a stranger. We don't know what she really has planned. I believe she wants her son back, I believe she wants to rule her people, but beyond that...I don't know. Be careful. I wanted to be there to help you, I'm sorry...”

“You'd appointed yourself my personal guard?”

Clarke glowered at her teasing tone, but her eyes shone with exasperated fondness. “Something like that.”

“I'll be careful, I promise. I know what I must do.”

Clarke squeezed her hands into fists in frustration. “I don't want to leave you,” she said, strained, torn, “but...I _have_ to. I'm so so--”

“Don't apologize,” Lexa cut her off gently. “I knew this day was coming and I said as much when you first arrived in _Polis_. Of course you have to go back. They're your people. That's why I...” She caught herself just in time and took a breath before giving a rueful smile. “That's why you're _you_.”

Clarke looked at her for a long moment before turning away. She knew what Lexa wanted to say.

She was glad she didn't say it.

“Guess they decided I wasn't done yet. No more running.”

Clarke leaned on the edge of the table, her hands in her lap. It was the most she'd allowed herself to relax from the moment Raven told her that their people were in danger again.

“I don't even know what it's like there anymore. I mean, when I left, it had a different name.”

“They're still your people. Whatever this man has done, he can't change that.”

“They're my _family,”_ she admitted brokenly. “I...I have nothing left of my home. It's gone. I can never go back. The people... _my people_...they are all that's left. It's not just my friends or my Mom...it's _all_ of them. Every time one of them dies, it's a piece of my home that gets taken away forever. As long as they live, I will always have something left. Without them...I will never have the comfort of home again.”

She scrubbed her face harshly, running her fingers through her hair.

“I left,” she shrugged uselessly, “I couldn't face them, but knowing that they were _alive_ , that they were still out there...that was enough.”

“You're strong, Clarke. I know you'll stop this and you will guide them well, back to the path that leads to peace for us all.”

“My Dad...” she started thickly, “he was the bravest man I've ever known. I-I don't think he'd even be able to look me in the eye now after everything I've done. He wouldn't have run away like I did. He wasn't a coward.”

“Neither are you,” Lexa said firmly. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and now you're going back to lead them once more. You are many things, Clarke, but a coward will never be one of them.”

Clarke nodded gratefully, even though she wasn't quite sure she believed her.

“He was the Senior Environmental Engineer on the Ark and a Deputy Resource Officer. His job was...well, _really complex_ , but what it comes down to is just a lot of words that meant his responsibility was to keep our people alive. My Mom helps people who get sick or injured, but my Dad was there to stop those things before they ever happened. Mom treated the symptoms, Dad wanted to cure the disease.”

Clarke folded her arms against her chest tightly. She didn't know why she was thinking about this right now or why she was actually _talking_ about it, telling Lexa about her Dad when she'd never even brought him up before. It seemed pertinent somehow in this situation. They were going to be separated and Clarke was going back to an unknown entity, wholly unprepared for what she would encounter even if she would never admit that to Lexa because she didn't want her to worry even more or change her mind about their plan. But she was going back to Arkadia and Jake Griffin was at the forefront of her mind, right there pushing and shoving to share a space with her roller-coaster of emotions about Lexa.

It felt right to be sharing this with her, something tying them together in the midst of this chaos and uncertainty with only precious minutes left before Clarke had to ride out.

“Every morning, Dad would wake up first, but Mom usually had to run out to the med bay before breakfast so it would just be the two of us. He would kiss me goodbye and then went off to repair the _endless_ disrepair on the station. Until one day...they just couldn't fix it anymore. We were all going to die unless we found a way back to the ground. He thought our people had the right to know the danger we were in, our _true_ fate, but others disagreed. They executed him for it. Floated him for trying to protect us all as he did nearly every day for most of his life.”

Lexa's fingers twitched at her side, trying to hold herself back from the instinct to reach out and touch Clarke. Instead and settled for gripping the hilt of her sword. “It seems his daughter grew up to be just like him.”

“But I'm not,” Clarke said bitterly. “I'm not! I kill people. I get people killed. I make choices that...that I don't have a right to make. And I ran away. He never would have done that. Not ever. I've failed him. I'm glad he's dead, that way he doesn't have to see what his daughter has become.”

“Clarke, no--”

“It's true. You didn't know him so you can't understand.”

Lexa didn't let that deter her. “What I _know_ is that the man you described sounds like a person who was willing to stake his life on doing the right thing to protect his people. He raised his daughter to be the same and she has done more good and endured more hardships than he probably ever imagined. The only thing he would find wrong with this, Clarke, is how much pain you've suffered as a result of your devotion.”

Clarke stood up suddenly, wiping away tears with the back of her hand quickly. She couldn't bear to feel this anymore. Jake Griffin was the last person she needed to have on her mind right now. She had her mission and that was all she needed to think about, yet the rest just kept pouring in. The reality settling of what this separation truly meant for them. For Clarke and Lexa.

“I don't know how long I'll be gone or when I'll—”

“You do not need to concern yourself with that.”

“This isn't just a day trip, Lexa!” she insisted. “We were preparing for the possibility of being in _Azgeda_ for months. That's...that's a long time. A lot can happen. A lot can... _change_.”

Lexa seemed to draw inward in that moment, steeling herself against something. “I've known this moment was coming for some time now. It's okay, Clarke. The time you've spent here--”

Clarke didn't even seem to be listening, feelings building inside of her with words that had to be said and she couldn't think or hear anything else.

“When you come back, I'll be here,” she said, quick, jumbled, and breathless. Then she realized how it presumptuous it sounded and awkwardly tried to soften it with a follow up. “...if that's what you want.”

She wished she hadn’t sounded so weak, but Lexa didn't seem to pick up on it.

“ _Polis_ will always be open and safe to you,” she reassured her. “No matter what happens. I promise you that. You have a place here, regardless of what happens to your people.”

That wasn't what Clarke wanted to hear.

It wasn't what she _needed_ to hear.

“And you? W-what about you?”

Lexa couldn't meet her gaze, her chin tilted down with sadness that Clarke didn't understand.

“ _Ai laik leron yu otaim,”_ she said softly.

_I am yours always._

Clarke finally closed the remaining space between them, stepping right up against her, pressing their bodies together and took Lexa's face in her hands. She waited until she could meet her eyes, until Lexa would allow it, and then locked onto them, staying there, drawing her in with her. If there was nothing else she could make Lexa understand, she needed her to know this.

_Please, let her know this._

“ _Senteim ai,”_ she whispered, nodding ever so slightly as she said it, her thumbs brushing against the softness of Lexa's cheeks.

_As am I._

It was the closest she could get. She hoped with all her heart that Lexa understood why.

Lexa turned her face into Clarke's hands gratefully and covered them with her own, kissing one palm, and looked back to her with unshed tears.

Slowly, it was sinking in for both of them.

Clarke was leaving. So was Lexa.

They didn't know when they would see each other again nor what the circumstances would be. If Clarke didn't succeed, if Lexa had to stay in _Azgeda_ longer than expected...a whole world could change overnight for them... _again_. Just as it had in the early hours of this day.

But, here and now, Lexa was finally starting to accept, with pure awe, that Clarke wanted more than just this short time they had together.

At the same time, Clarke realized with a heavy heart that Lexa had always been preparing herself for their goodbye – that she'd always believed Clarke would inevitably leave her. Not because of war or her people, but fearing that she would just simply not want her anymore.

That was a weight in her stomach and a pain in her heart that she had no words for.

“I'm going to come back,” she said firmly, reassuringly. “It doesn't matter who you send with me or if I go alone because I _will_ find a way to come back to you.”

Lexa exhaled softly, releasing some of the tension from her body. Clarke hoped that meant she was allowing herself to believe it.

She shifted against her, dropping her hands from her face to settle on her waist. “But you have to be here when I do.”

Lexa gave a slow nod with heavy eyes. “I will do everything in my power.”

Clarke leaned in and dropped her forehead against hers, letting them breathe each other in. “We don't have much time.”

“I know.”

“I can do this.”

Clarke was saying it for herself. Lexa wasn't the one who needed to be convinced anymore.

“If you have the chance to take him out, do not waste it.” Lexa took a deep breath, pushing forward despite knowing Clarke's feelings about it. “I know you do not wish to kill, but, Clarke, what he has done has put us all, _thousands_ of lives, in jeopardy. If he is allowed to live, that's not a risk we can afford.”

“I told you, I'll do what has to be done, but if I can get him to surrender...put him on trial. Let my people decide because so far his only crime has been against us.”

“The same people who voted for him to lead you in the first place?”

Clarke frowned at that, bitter at the implication, bitter that there was truth to it that she couldn't deny. But she didn't pull away, she stayed right there in Lexa's arms, inches away from her lips, their noses brushing against each other lightly. She needed that comfort, that closeness. She wanted the wall demolished because how could she leave, not knowing when they would see each other again, and have her last memories tainted for it?

“I'll figure it out,” she said again for what felt like the umpteenth time in the last few hours. “Keep the radio with you. I don't know how long the range is, probably not enough to be able to make contact deep in _Azgeda_ territory, but keep it with you anyway.”

“Don't you need it?”

“What I _need_ is for you to have it, okay?”

Lexa reached up and carded her fingers through Clarke's hair.

“I suppose you need these taken out,” she said with a tinge of mournfulness.

“What are you talking about?”

“For your plan, the braids - you're supposed to look like them, like one of your people again.”

Clarke shook her head. “Not me. Just Aden and the others. Me? I'm not changing a thing.”

Lexa furrowed her forehead in confusion. “But you said they fear what is different.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows with a look in her eyes that Lexa had seen only a handful of times before.

_Dangerous. Determined. Powerful._

“Oh, I'm counting on it.”

Lexa lowered her chin in understanding and didn't question it further. Despite her initial hesitancy about how quickly this was all coming about, she truly did trust Clarke and she trusted her judgment. She knew very well that their best chance at deescalating the situation was to send Clarke in to handle it.

But that didn't make it any easier.

“You know what I was looking forward to on our journey to _Azgeda_?” Clarke asked.

The was a twinkle of mischievousness in her eyes.

They needed something to lighten this. Something to make it easier. Something to break down this wall once and for all before she had to leave. Time was running out and there would be someone coming in any moment now to inform them that it was time to leave.

“What?”

Clarke smirked up at her and traced her thumb over Lexa's plump, soft bottom lip, mesmerized as always by the sight and feeling of that utterly intoxicating mouth.

“The nights where we would break camp, in the snowy peaks of _Azgeda_ , and snuggle deep into our furs with an open fire beside us. You would be in my arms, naked, perfect, your face burrowed against my neck because your nose would be cold. We would keep each other safe and warm every night with all the ways we would find to ease the aches of the long days rides.”

Lexa couldn't help but smile, such tenderness breaking out across her features.

“You thought about that?”

“More than _thought_ ,” Clarke teased. “I had plans for all that I wanted to do you. Especially how loud I could get you, making sure everyone nearby us would know just what it was I was doing to you...”

Lexa's cheeks flushed a deep red, but she looked utterly pleased at the same time.

“You planned to be a terrible distraction then,” she replied, trying and failing, to keep a straight face. “Perhaps this separation is for the best after all. You'd be a liability.”

Clarke grinned wolfishly, brushing her lips against hers with the lightest touch. “I planned to be a glorious distraction, _Commander._ As well as a useful form of stress relief.”

Lexa burst out a chuckle of disbelief at Clarke's brazenness, but it was quickly cut off by lips covering hers.

Clarke kissed her slowly, deeply, taking every bit of time she had to fully express all that she was feeling into Lexa's mouth, on her lips and tongue. Lexa's response was immediate and she reached up to cup the back of Clarke's head as Clarke's fingers dug into the soft flesh at her hips, pulling her solidly against her body.

“Come back to me,” she murmured between kisses.

Lexa sighed, leaning in for more. “My fate is sealed, Clarke. You know this. If I am meant to return, I will.”

“You break the rules all the time,” she replied stubbornly. “You defy the odds. You're one of the longest reigning Commanders in history. Tell fate to fuck off. You've said that to everyone else, what make this so different?”

Lexa smiled against her lips, endlessly amused by her determination. “For you, _Klark kom Skaikru_ , I will try.”

Clarke didn't realize how many tears she'd shed until Lexa broke away for a moment, breathing hard, lips beautifully, perfectly swollen, to thumb away Clarke's wet cheeks.

“I don't want to go,” she admitted throatily.

Lexa had held herself together until that moment, but when Clarke said that, her lower lip trembled as her eyes grew wet. “I don't believe this is the end for us," she said, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "So you can't think that way either.”

Their kisses grew stronger, sloppier, more passionate and desperate with each passing second and just as Clarke thought she was going to have to take Lexa on this table right then and there, one of the young Seconds came bursting into the war chambers to announce they were ready to leave.

Resigned, they extricated each other from tangled limbs, and they didn't say anything more.

But the wall was gone.

 


	43. One More

The group settled into a walk after a while of hard riding, getting off their horses and leading them to give them a rest. Aden continued to stay alongside Clarke while a couple of the others jogged ahead of them to make sure it was clear. Clarke would have been surprised by his audaciousness if she hadn't seen Lexa take him aside privately in the moments before they rode out. When the two of them rejoined the others, Aden was at Clarke's side, and he hadn't left it since.

It was a few hours into their journey and a few years into the dark spiraling of Clarke's mind as she turned over each and every aspect of what could happen, what to expect, how to stop her people and divert them from the path of complete self annihilation. Aden broke the silence by suggesting they rest and drink from a creek he could hear running nearby – it wouldn't do them any good if their horses collapsed on them. Clarke didn't hear anything, but she knew better than to question the boy's trained ears.

They steered the horses down a small slope and secured them to the nearby trees. The steeds were running too hot to drink from from the creek yet so they would have to wait a little longer before bringing them all the way to the cool water.

The others spread out, taking up posts and scouting the woods to make sure they were secure. There were five girls and three boys, including Aden. The girls were easier to disguise than most of the boys who had already taken some form of tattoos on their necks and faces. _Trikru_ girls tended to do that later, they usually started with their arms and back and then moved up as they grew older. Clarke didn't have time to ask why. She would have time later. Some of them were older than she initially thought, but there was something eerily similar about this to her first days on the ground. Leading a group of teenagers again... But these were trained warriors, years of experience behind them, not just some egocentric, dumb-with-euphoria, Sky children running free through the woods with absolutely no concept of survival. These teenagers would actually follow Clarke without question, with respect, and they would give her the support she needed.

Because they understood what it took to survive.

Aden didn't attempt to go with them, staying close to Clarke. He was a few paces away, standing in front of her, and his strawberry golden hair shone in the sunlight pouring down in beams through the trees. He was uniquely fair skinned for a Grounder, splashed with freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Shorter than Clarke, but his rigid posture made him feel so much taller than the reality. Gangly limbs and scrawny arms were all part of a deception. She'd seen how strong he was already. A few short years from now and he would tower over her with broad shoulders, a deep voice, and he would finally look like every bit of the warrior he already was.

It was quiet except for the babbling of the water that she definitely heard now. Aden's boots were toeing the edge as he surveyed the area with his head held high and his ears tuned carefully for any sound out of the ordinary.

In the briefest moment, she saw Lexa in the way he raised his chin.

There was something so utterly fascinating and endearing about this boy. She felt like she was starting to see what Lexa did - how he stood out, the oddest sort of quiet strength emanating from someone so very young.

And so very like her.

Lexa wasn't just training a protege, she was giving him the childhood she should have had, if it had been done correctly. Not pushing Aden before he was ready. Teaching him every aspect of leadership, strategy, and empathy - not just fighting skills. Aden was Lexa's second chance.

No wonder she trusted him to go with Clarke.

“What did Lexa tell you?”

The boy glanced at her, looking her over with a silent question.

Clarke wasn't having any of that. She stepped forward, closer to him in the sunlight, with a knowing raise of her eyebrow. “I saw you two before we left. What did she say?”

Aden put one hand on the hilt of his blade while flexing the other. He wasn't looking at Clarke anymore, but instead back at their surroundings.

“Aden."

He sighed and turned to face her. “ _Heda_ , commanded me to follow your every order as if it were her own and to protect you with my life. I swore an oath to it, _Wanheda_.”

Clarke forced a small smile which she hoped came across as reassuring.

“It won't come to that. You're under my protection too.”

There was a small snap in the distance and the bushes across the creek rustled. Aden jumped to attention, immediately putting himself between Clarke and the disturbance. He didn't draw his blade yet, too trained for that, but she could see his right hand dancing near the dagger strapped to his leg.

A chipmunk with an oddly large and bushy red tail darted out of the bushes and Clarke let go of the breath she'd been holding, trying to calm her racing heart. Aden seemed sheepish, but he tried to cover it as best he could by standing tall and pretending that he hadn't just been put on full guard by a tiny furry woodland rodent. A _mutated_ furry woodland rodent...

“I know this is your first mission.”

He looked at her over his shoulder for a long moment before nodding. It wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't shame, but she could see the slightest bit of fear behind his eyes. The lightest hazel eyes she'd ever seen, flecked with such sparks of green and gold.

“You're not going to let me down. Or _Heda_. She believes in you. We just have to work together.”

He glanced at her warily, wondering where she was taking this.

“Which means...” Clarke took his arm and gently pulled him around so that he was facing her again, “we need to trust each other. No secrets. Everyone has to be on the same page. So what else did she tell you?”

He sighed, debating it for a moment longer before meeting Clarke's gaze and relented. “ _Ai souda frag em baga em op fas slak._ ”

_I am to kill the enemy at first opening._

“Of course,” Clarke sighed, stepping back ruefully. She had expected as much.

“The rest o _f Skaikru's natronas_ are _Wanheda's_ decision, but the disruptor must be eliminated because he is too dangerous to live.”

“So you plan to kill Pike the moment I turn my back? Even if we capture him alive? Or under a willing surrender?”

“ _Heda_ commanded--”

“I heard you the first time,” she snapped.

“How else would you hope to deal with him?” Aden asked tentatively, despite Clarke's visible frustration.

“I don't know yet. That's the problem. We don't know nearly enough about anything happening inside those walls to make that kind of decision.”

“So you would risk your people's lives by hesitating? You told us during your lesson that we must not hesitate to kill one who wields a gun. That even a weakened warrior can still pull the trigger. How is this different?”

“It's different because he might not be holding a gun.”

“What if his people are?”

“We won't know until we're there and we see it for ourselves.”

Aden scoffed, but said nothing.

“You don't approve.”

“It's foolish and dangerous and will get many people killed. _Heda_ always taught us to act quickly, without hesitation. One second of doubt can mean the death of many.”

“I'm willing to bet she _also_ taught you to gather facts, to know the enemy, to have as much information as possible instead of wildly running into battle without preparing first.”

He paused at that.

“I know what Lexa asked you to do, and if it is necessary, then don't hesitate - kill Pike if he tries to hurt someone, but I'm asking you to make sure you have the facts first instead of killing blindly.”

“How?”

“When we get there, we'll know more. I'm not trying to spare his life because he's _Skaikru_ , Aden, I just want to make sure that he _deserves_ to die if it comes to that. That there is absolutely no other choice, no path to take. I don't want anyone to get hurt if we can stop it. That's why we're going there. To _protect_ everyone, not kill them.”

“You wish to capture him alive then?”

“If possible.”

“I cannot disobey _Heda_.”

Clarke turned on him knowingly. “She told you to follow my orders as if they were her own, right?”

He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring with annoyance.

“If Pike is a threat, we'll take him out, but the goal is to capture him alive and make him stand trial. Will you do that?”

“My orders--”

“Your orders are, first and foremost, to follow me.”

“Not for this.” He shook his head, surprising Clarke with his insistence. “ _Heda_ was clear. I am to follow your command _except_ for when it comes to this. She knew you would try to dissuade me. I am not to listen.”

Clarke slammed her eyes shut in pure frustration.

_Damn her._

Lexa knew her all too well. The possibility of being able to convince the boy to come around to her side was rapidly lessening. Lexa prepared him well, not just for the battlefield, but for Clarke too.

“Look, we need to trust each other if we're going to succeed, Aden. I _need_ you to trust me. Can you do that?”

Aden paused for a long moment, considering it, before he finally nodded.

“ _Heda_ trusts you and so will I.”

“Good.”

That would have to be enough. She would work on the rest with him later. Despite Lexa's clear instructions, she hoped she could find a way to convince him that the Commander would change her own orders once they saw what was happening in Arkadia.

God... What would they even find?

Maybe she shouldn't be so quick to dissuade Aden.

Clarke glanced around, seeing that some of her team had returned and were sitting, drinking from the river, some posted on guard, and she resigned herself to this moment of stillness. She realized she should probably find out their names at some point considering what they were risking by joining her in this, but she couldn't think clearly. Everything in her body and mind was telling her to get back on that horse, to keep moving, that stopping like this...useless...was wrong. But she had to be practical.

So she settled herself on the flat edge of a rock, cooled by the proximity to the river and shaded by the large trees looming overhead, keeping most of the sun off her as well.

But when she stopped moving, she stopped thinking of her people.

Lexa was all she could see.

Clarke jumped up at once and made her way towards the two girls closest to her.

Now was as good as time as any to find out their names.

_Anything to stop thinking about her goodbye._

_Or complete lack thereof._

* * *

They had left in complete secrecy, through old tunnels, long boarded up, beneath the mansion and exited outside the walls of the city.

That was the last time she saw her.

Clarke's horse was saddled with provisions, waiting for her. The Seconds were getting their last minute instructions from Indra. Aden was waiting stiffly for Clarke by her horse while he held his own by its bridle as well.

Lexa tried to say goodbye, but Clarke couldn't let her.

She extended hand and there was the faintest trembling in her fingers.

Clarke wanted no part of it.

“May we mee--”

“ _Don't._ ”

Lexa went silent and dropped her arm at once, but it wasn't enough. She needed more and Clarke needed it too.

“How do your people say goodbye?”

She considered it for a moment. “There is the warrior's farewell, but other than that...we don't.”

Clarke nodded. “I like that. Can we do that?”

“We can.”

Clarke reached her arm out this time and Lexa clasped her forearm gratefully. She glanced around them quickly to see who watching, but everyone was busy with their horses and adjusting their packs. So she used her grip on Lexa to pull her close and press a brief but firm kiss to her lips once more.

Lexa inhaled sharply when Clarke pulled away, immediately sucking in her bottom lip as If she was trying to savor the taste of Clarke for as long as she could. The sight was enough to make Clarke lose all sense and she was halfway into leaning back for more when she caught herself. Their stolen moment had passed and there were eyes on them again.

“This is all happening too fast.”

Her heart was pounding mercilessly against her rib-cage. Mere hours. The sun was barely in the sky. All that had changed, all that lay before her, and she was prepared for none of it.

“It will be all right,” Lexa murmured with heavy eyes. “Clarke...”

She looked up at her, wondering, waiting for what she would say.

“Once things are settled, once you have fixed this with our people, I want you to know...”

Not _if._ Lexa was certain now. Clarke would succeed. It was the only outcome.

“If you wish to stay with them, in Arkadia, I will understand. You have no obligation to return. You can relinquish your responsibility as ambassador to another. My offer for the capital as a safe haven for you will remain as always. You do not need to fear repercussion--”

“Lexa,” she shook her head incredulously, stopping her from what seeming like a borderline ramble, “thank you for giving me _Polis_. But it's not _Polis_ I want.”

“I want you to know you have a choice.”

“I do know. I know that I'm coming back and that you're going to come back to me. That's just the way it is.”

Lexa had to smile. “Well...as long as you know.”

Clarke smiled, a bittersweet one with an ache in her heart that made it hard to move, much less breathe, but Lexa's soft eyes, of reassurance, of love, of faith...it was everything.

It gave her faith in herself that she didn’t realize she needed.

With one last shared look, Clarke ripped herself away from Lexa and swung up on her horse. She nodded her farewell to Indra and looked to Aden at her side with the others readying themselves behind her. She didn't know one from the other yet, but they had a hard, long ride ahead of them and pleasantries could wait until after.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her mind was reeling from how quickly and how much had changed in mere hours. She couldn't believe this was happening. A part of her felt like she was going to wake up in Lexa's arms, Raven's call being a dream, and they would still be getting ready for their journey into _Azgeda_.

Now she felt like she was being cleaved from a part of her soul in favor of the other half.

A strong, kneading grip on her leg broke her from her reverie and she looked down to see Lexa squeezing her calf tightly, her other hand braced on the horse.

“Breathe, Clarke. You know what to do. This is who you are. Who you were always meant to be.”

“What if I can't do it anymore?” she whispered, not daring to let any of the others hear her. “What if it broke me?”

“You are so very far from broken, _hodnes_.”

Clarke thought she just might believe her.

Lexa clenched her jaw, steeling herself. “ _Gyon au!_ ”

She slapped Clarke's horse's rear and he kicked into gear, riding off. The rest of Clarke's little ragamuffin band scrambled to follow. They rode for the high-line in the trees, but Clarke allowed herself to look back once.

Only once.

Lexa remained in the shadows of the tunnel, watching as she rode away, but somehow it didn't quite feel like Clarke was leaving her. Not entirely.

_I will always be with you._

They were constant words whispered in darkness, between lips meeting again and again, sheets, and pillows, and soft warm bodies pressed against each other with no reprieve and every reprieve. Words said and unsaid through the way their bodies met and fingers dragging against warm flesh.

Clarke breathed that deep into her body, drawing it into her heart, cementing it in her bones, she would carry Lexa with her until, yes, they would meet again.

This was no goodbye. There was just time between them now. Time would pass and then Clarke would be back in _Polis_ , back in their bedroom, breakfast soon to arrive with its rich aroma and sweet, savory mix filling her nose. The morning sunlight dappling Lexa's smooth, naked skin. And Clarke would be back in Lexa's arms.  
  
They had a job to do. A battle to win. It was nothing they hadn't faced before and would do so again many times after this, yet it was different this time. This time they both knew what would be waiting for them when it was over.  
  
This time, Clarke had something more than just her people to fight for.  
  
Lexa asked her at the Mountain what she would do when it was over and Clarke had nothing to say. She could see nothing beyond her task. There was nothing waiting for her and nothing that she could bring herself to desire. Peace wasn't even a concept fathomable for her then.  
  
There was no reward beyond the relief that she had done what was right and protected her people. Nothing for herself.  
  
She had something now and that lit a fire inside of her unlike anything she had ever felt before. Needing to protect her people had been dogmatic, brutal, and unyielding. A slow, clunky train making its way up an incline inch by inch with nothing but its gears to keep it moving, slipping back in little moments, but ever still pressing forward with perfunctory determination. The courage she found inside of her now was so much more.  
  
It breathed new life into her aching bones and shot her up through the trees into the clear blue skies. She was invincible, as powerful as the earth itself and dangerous as the sharpest edge of Lexa's finest sword. Nothing would stop her, nothing could stand between her and what she had waiting for her beyond it. There was life. There was happiness. There was love.  
  
And a time to rest.  
  
Clarke rode hard but she never felt the horse touch the ground - they might as well have been flying. Arkadia lay ahead and Clarke had one last battle to fight alone.


End file.
